Bishonen & Bishojo: DotM
by Sierra-Falls
Summary: Aela has the opportunity to enter the land of Bishonen and Bishojo, but she comes into the adventure fresh from a trauma in her own life. All inspiration credited to Songwind, who came up with the original idea.
1. Chapter 1

Ok, I know this is irresponsible of me, but yet another story idea has popped into my little head after I've read Songwind's Bishonen and Bishojo fic. It struck me as an interesting concept, and after looking around a bit, it seems she doesn't mind others playing in her sandbox, provided credit is given.

Now, as we all probably know, I don't exactly go with 'everything is fine in la-la land' kind of fics. At least, I try to keep to some basics that will make things interesting in whatever world/AU I'm having characters operate in. Such things like 'death', 'power structures', 'economics', 'group dynamics', etc. I also try to keep a realistic look when a character gains power boosts. To me, its never fun when the protagonist becomes uber powerful within the first few chapters. (Which reminds me that I have to go back and rewrite the first few chapters of UM, since Ranma does something suspiciously similar to that which I loathe.)

Case in point, I have a new char I would like to introduce to the Bishie world.

Bishonen and Bishojo: Daughter of the Mob

Chapter 1

It was an urgent hand that awoke her. A gasp froze in her throat instinctively as the world snapped into as much focus as could be had in the dead of night without the lights on. Michaela was one of those rare ones whose transition between waking and sleep was as minute as to be instantaneous. It was her mother shaking the seventeen year old, and the tension in her hand and frame let Michaela know something was distinctly 'up'.

"Quickly," her mama breathed in a tone so whisper quiet it could scarce be heard by her daughter let alone anyone else in the house. Her petite hands were stripping off the warm cocoon and pulling the youth from her bed.

"'Aela, my dearling, its finally happened, and they're here now. There is not much time."

In a similar tone, Michaela queried, the slightest amount of panic audible, "Mama, what's going on? Where are we going?"

Those warm hands that had eased every bruise and cradled her daughter's head against a maternal neck when times were bad paused in their pulling. Her mother's form whirled away towards the desk for a second. A quiet click and a tug against the plug pulled it from the wall. Michaela's eyes caught a sliver of movement outside her window. Refraining from the temptation of moving toward the window to get a better look, she returned her attention to her mother, who now had the laptop disconnected and shoved it in the teen's grasp.

"Mama, someone's outside the house." Again, there was only a hint of fear in her voice, but it didn't tremble and she didn't gasp or pant or cry out.

"I know, mi bebe, I must get you safe. Come," she commanded after taking her wrist and tearing down the hall toward the stairs, fleetfooted and making no sound. Both females instinctively avoided all the singing steps and creaky spots before stopping before the upstairs closet.

"The closet?"

"No, the crawl space up high. Hurry."

"There's only room for one." And understanding and horror dawned in the younger's eyes. There still was no outcry or gasp or sob.

Her petite mama looked up into her taller daughter's night black eyes. She tapped the laptop. "I want you to focus, mi bebe. Use this. Only see what is on the screen. Close your ears. Only know what this provides and block out what goes on below. Your father is gone now, and he can't hurt you, but those that come can, and will, if you make a sound. It is in mia mama's blood to stop the little sounds, so if you are caught it will be by your will."

Michaela looked like she was about to break down in her mother's arms, but those hands were pushing again. They took the laptop, and pushed their precious offspring up the shelves. 'Aela had to lift and shift the crawl space cover to the side before she could ascend. And when she turned to gaze down for one last sight, the laptop obscured her vision. The sound of something shattering, probably a window, was heard downstairs.

Twin pools of black looked up into their reflections. Her mama didn't say anything, but 'Aela could almost hear that lovely alto whisper her final words. _I love you 'Aela, mi bebe. Live, cry for me, be angry, but be true to yourself. Be strong, you are of MY blood. _

'Aela replaced the cover as softly as she could. Distant thumps reached her ears, the knowledge that her home was being invaded permeated her brain. She didn't want to think of what will happen to her mother when they found her. She didn't even want to joyfully imagine all of the gruesome ways her father might have expired. Instead, she shifted positions on the plywood sheeting that kept her from the insulation and falling through the ceiling.

Facing away from the exit, 'Aela sat with legs crossed and the laptop perched on her knees amongst the dust and detritus caused by never cleaning the attic like normal people. While she flipped the lid, steps sounded up the stairs and a hurried commotion was sounded down the hall. Peripherally, she knew her mother had been sighted, and was leading them away from the hiding spot.

Michaela was slowly shutting down the connections to her senses excepting sight. She was mentally focusing herself on the screen as it booted up and she brought it to the internet. Checking her messages was always the first thing on her internet routine, followed by checking for new fanfiction as well as all her favorite webcomics. Skimming down the list of new messages, a lock of thick curly olive black hair slid forward over an ear, but she barely noticed, just as she was only the slightest bit aware of the sounds of the rough shouts, fists smacking flesh and then bed springs creaking down the hall. Her subconscious did note that not once was there a cry of pain emitted by her mother. Perhaps all that talk about gramama's blood did hold some truth.

But something had caught her now dominant sense. A strange email was innocently sitting in her mailbox. There was no tagline, but neither did her filters block it out. Having pretty much nothing else to lose, she opened it and revealed in all its glory... an website address outside of her email, and did she want to step outside of the security of her email provider to access it? Frowning as her subconscious generated anger, she clicked the 'yes' button before momentarily wondering why she had so much anger when she was just checking her mail. Her conscious mind shied away from the train of thought after she remembered her mother telling her to focus on the internet, but her subconscious knew everything that was happening downstairs. And deep in her core, she was very frightened. But that which scares her also angers her. A lot. So it was a bone deep rage twinned with chill fear that churned and bubbled just underneath the placid surface curiosity she was exhibiting toward the interesting flashy website. If she were capable of growling without having to think about it, a feminine rumbling would have sounded throughout the small attic.

Her black eyes skimmed the site. She raised a brow at the idea of capturing some of her favorite characters. But then again, her most favorites were some of the males from Anne Bishop's Dark Jewels Trilogy, and they wouldn't be very happy with being bound. She also wasn't too thrilled with the thought of males at the moment for some odd reason. It was while she was contemplating such deep thoughts as to the objections fictional characters would have to being caught that there was a shifting sound behind her.

Michaela's finger was hovering over the in-built mouse pad whose pointer was hovering over the bottom of the screen. It was centered on the link 'Make Me a Trainer'. A shadowy figure lifted itself through the hole, chuckling darkly to himself. He ooched forward whispering vicious things about the sitting girl ahead of him, but she did not move. No reaction, no fear. It enraged him into lunging forward and settling a vice grip on her shoulder. Just when he was about to spin her around and throw her to the floor, there was a bright flash of light that emanated from the computer screen. Searing his eyes, he yelped and toppled backward, falling back through the hole and hitting his head on the way down.

Much later, when the thug thought about it handcuffed downtown at the police station, he convinced himself that the light was the police searchlights shining through the attic window. When he was questioned about the missing girl and the destroyed laptop found in the attic, he just shrugged and asked, 'what girl?'

End Chapter 1

A.N. Well? What do you think? I know I didn't actually get too much into the B&B world yet, but I think I left enough clues as to what went on to get her there. I've also left little bits as to a backstory for Michaela's maternal bloodline. Lets just say the women of her family have a forced control of their involuntary reactions. Unless they think about it consciously, they CAN'T gasp, sob, scream etc. even if its in pain, sadness, anger, or excitement, arousal, surprise etc. Just a quirk I threw in to make things interesting. Its not like it's a hereditary mutant power or anything. Really. Its just a genetic quirk, like its been bred out of them.

I also don't know if anyone picked up my hints about 'Aela's father. He ran with a mob somewhere, and probably died as a result of a turf war, which then brought the fight to his home, where wifey and little girl child were waiting. How wifey knew about what happened? Even I don't know. Perhaps she got an impromptu call to warn her, or she's just psychic that way. But yes, 'Aela's father was abusive to her. Not too bad, but then again, what do you think would happen with a daughter of a lower ranking mob affiliate?


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. Its been a little bit since I wrote the first chapter... I've been dreaming up some of the following sequences, and trying to find a deeper plot than 'ok, she's here now, what's next?' As it is, I'm pretty much making this up as I go along. For once, I don't have any concrete grandiose plan in which 'Aela fits maddeningly well into the various layers and sub-plots I normally have squirreled away. So lets be a good audience and just see what I come up with, yes?

Bishonen and Bishojo: Daughter of the Mob

Chapter 2

It was with a startling 'POP' of her inner ear that brought Michaela's subconscious back online.

It was the whistling of air screaming past her ears and the CRACK SNAP of branches flailing her that yanked her back into total consciousness...

But the eventual THUD of impacting the ground gave power back to her feral subconscious.

Aware, but not exactly awake, 'Aela's deep inner mind had to contend with two disparate thought processes. One train of not-thought had to do with the welling of rage, fury and fear brought on by the destruction of her previous life at the hands of those who invaded her home. The other track was primarily attuned to her senses and set on an observatory mode. Those same senses were nudging the primal subconscious. Not everything was 'right' or familiar with her world anymore.

While the observation track had noted her injuries, the welts and bloody scratches that came from falling at high speeds through tree branches, it had classified them as minor. The broken leg and sprained wrist were of a little more concern, but still not what it wanted the subconscious to wake the over-conscious about. No, what the senses were telling the male-bashing subconscious was that at present, a great number of entities of the male persuasion were gathering en masse a few yards away and just STARING.

Well, this new information caught id's attention. When a breathtakingly gorgeous specimen of the male species made an attempt to approach, however, Aela's id took over the body's reins and brought a head crowned with a riot of raven wing curls upward so id could stare out of midnight eyes and lift her lip, baring luminescent white teeth in what was unmistakably a flat-out threat.

What id did not know, and the unnamed master of the senses could not tell, was that the male started backing away not because of her visible warning signs. No, he had that inestimable sixth sense that most Blood males possessed, and tasted a female's psychic scent paused tremblingly between riding the killing edge and descending into the Twisted Kingdom. The slightest wrong nudge could send her spiraling into either undesirable side of the spectrum, and as much as his blood cried out to help a hurt female in distress, he knew he did not have the capabilities to ground her or otherwise channel the urges she was feeling into something less self-destructive.

He was on the verge of communicating to his brethren what he had discovered, spear to spear, when Aela's id took solid notice of her growing entourage. She sent a non-verbal snarl out into the ether, and it would have been echoed with a similar one from her throat, except that even her body's subconscious did not have the 'authority' per se to invoke one.

So the dark one just knelt there, with leg and wrist throbbing, on the cobblestones of a Bishonen and Bishojo hidden city, mute and radiating stress and pain, rage and sorrow, all swirling in great eddies that picked up the interest of those called to serve. But none were able to help. Id warned them all away, as she would not accept the touch or help of one who so resembled those who had audibly brutalized her mother.

But minutes later, as the dull murmur of a sea of masculine voices rose and fell in worried discussion, a calmed silence pervaded from a certain direction. A ripple in the sea of gorgeous maned heads occurred as people moved aside to part a path to the dark one. The silence also had a tinge of awe to the massed psychic scents. The one who walked that clear path very rarely was seen, even in this most protected of Bishie lands. The only one more rare would be the full-blooded Janaelle, passed into her full power of Witch. There was only one Witch in the Realm at a time, so every other Janaelle was either a chibi or had matured into a sama and acquired her Twilight's Dawn jewel.

It was a rather short golden head of hair that finally breasted the crowd. Ancient sapphire eyes surveyed those around and a young sepulcher voice commanded, "Alright now, show's over. Go about your business and you won't be psychically maimed."

And back in her normal high-pitched child's voice she muttered to herself, 'And whether its me or her who does the maiming, I'll never know.'

Turning back to the huddled figure that brought a chibi-Janaelle out of her mother's protective hiding, she rested a hand against a non-existant hip and regarded the wild creature before her. Janaelle had her lessons in dealing with feral Kindred and snarly boyos, but she hadn't yet covered the dangerous topic of trainers, let alone hurt newbie ones. Brilliant sapphire met midnight black. Janaelle focused through the opening those dark orbs gave her, and frowned cutely, like a kitten considering how to pounce on a hoppy bug that was a bit too big. What she saw through those eyes ... Like the lights were on, and the watchdog awake, but there was nobody home.

"Aha! You're still not all awake, aren't you?!" she exclaimed brightly, very happy with herself for figuring it out.

Considering black blinked slowly before focusing on something behind the chibi's shoulder. A lip lifted only the slightest to show a hint of tooth, but otherwise remained relaxed. Janaelle's presence presented a soothing balm of comforting abyssal darkness. Her darker aura enveloped Aela's frightened/angry id and brought it to a more stable level. But at Aela's action, the chibi turned with exaggerated slowness and again scrunched up her face in dissatisfaction. It was Daemon Sadi. More to the point, it was not only A Daemon, but THE Daemon who had assigned himself to watching over her when she wasn't around her mother, one of the few sama staged Janaelles.

"I know you're a Daemon, but you're not MY Daemon," chibi Janaelle shouted at him, meaning the one she would take as consort if/when she became full Witch in the Realm. "So stop following me!"

"Actually, little cat, I'm not here entirely for you this time," he crooned with the slightest hint of mockery.

"Don't call me 'little cat'! That's what Lucivar calls me"

Actually, that's what pretty much everyone who thinks of himself as a brother to a Janaelle calls her, but this chibi didn't know that.

"Hn," he murmured in a 'we'll see about that' tone while his golden eyes swept over to the still kneeling girl.

In an instant, Daemon's assessment came to the same conclusion as his little chibi charge.

"Could you please ease her into true-sleep, lit-Janaelle?"

"Why?"

"So that I might bring our new friend to Witch. She desires a meeting with this new trainer."

"So she really is one? A trainer, I mean? I couldn't tell at first, 'cause she's never said a word or anything, and she doesn't have any Bishie balls, oh and the fact that she's in our Realm, aren't trainers not supposed to be in our Realm? Is Witch going to kill her or banish her or break her of her jewels or exile her or wipe her memory or something since she's a trainer and in our Realm?"

"Curious cat. We won't know until we bring her, so please...?" he asked after ruffling the old gold of her hair.

Janaelle smacked his hand away while taking those remaining steps closer to the fascinating being known as a trainer.

The dark fury held back from lashing out to this close presence in the ether for several reasons. It did not have the distinct cast associated with males, and somehow, she could sense that it was a youngling approaching, a type of bebe as well, and presently offering no threat. A dark and soothing presence actively coated the raw wound in the ether that Aela's id exuded. Cooling her rage and relaxing her body, the subconscious registered that she felt safe for the first time since her mama had awoken her in her bed. Gently, softly, her senses were telling her that the throbbing wrist and spiking pain of her leg were releasing their grip, and id went with it, submersing itself back into the depths of unconsciousness.

It was a sleeping Aela that Daemon dove to catch before she again cracked something against the cobblestone. Lifting her with a fluid ease that not even Craft could match, the one known as the Sadist cradled a soon to be oriented captor in the manner one usually holds brides before giving the smirking chibi a hairy eyeball.

"Ebon Askavi, little cat. Meet me there." And then he caught a black thread after spinning a bubble carriage to keep the depths from crushing his new charge.

Which left Janaelle to gape for those few precious seconds for his getaway before she could retaliate. Just before she also disappeared, jumping the webs was more her style, she could be heard to say, "And I'm not your little cat..."

End Chapter 2


	3. Chapter 3

A.N. I know, I know. I seem to be making my chapters short and sweet. Well, from the reader's pov, its more one than the other, right? But if I can pull off another where its similar length measures up to four pages, then it is deliberate, and not because the author can't think up more content. Heh, or maybe I'm just deluding myself. I wonder if anyone will actually read this.

Bishonen and Bishojo: Daughter of the Mob

Chapter 3

When she woke up this time, she found herself cushioned and in a semi-upright position. Not to say in the least a lack of pain from her leg or wrist. There was also the little matter of a warm weight in her lap and the distinct feeling of eyes watching her very closely but without any evil intent. With her own eyes still closed in the faintest attempt to feign sleep, her hand twitched, flexing, in order to shake away the sleepy lethargy that comes with being deep under. The movement also served to redirect the attention once focused solely on her face as well as tell her that she was reclining on something with a smooth expensive fabric. She could recognize the quality just by the touch. She had developed her eye for fine things on her rare trips with her father when he wanted to show her off to the higher ups in their expensive mansions and offices.

Sooty lashes quivered and then rose, revealing eyes just as dark beneath. The warmth in her lap squirmed around rather painfully, what with a sharp knee scraping her hipbone in its attempt to settle comfortably. Aela's hands darted forward to lift under her burden's armpits to halt the painful movement. But she chuckled when sapphire blue eyes peered up at her from thick blonde lashes like a kitten caught by the nape of the neck after doing something naughty kittens shouldn't do.

"Just stop kneeing me please. That hurts."

"All right." And the child was set down with Aela's arms around her in a semi-hug. The child fairly purred with the positive attention as Aela looked her surroundings over.

It seemed they were situated in a study. A well appointed room with a handsome fireplace against the far wall. Directly ahead of her wingback chair, a solid wood desk loomed, imposing in its size, but delicate in its make. The seat of honor behind its massive length was empty, for which Aela was glad. She did not want to meet the master of that chair at the moment, let alone at all. Typically, the ones who owned such furniture did not place much patience in fifteen year old girls, and the ones who did take an interest... Generally was not an interest she wanted taken in her. Not too pleasant a thought.

In a voice hushed but not urgent, she asked politely, "Where am I?" in the hopes that this well-bred daughter would tell more than she was supposed to know. It would not do to let the kid know how desperately she needed the information. She also didn't know if she was being monitored. No self-respecting affiliate of her father's would ever consider leaving a prisoner with what was an obviously high born daughter, no matter if said prisoner was also a relatively young girl as well.

"Ebon Askavi."

Well that was piped back readily. Aela made an encouraging sound. Sometimes children took that as an invitation to reel off anything and everything that came in their heads. Plus, that name rang a bell somewhere.

"This is where my cousin rules the Realm from. She said she wanted to meet you, and so does her Daemon, and even a number of the boyos. If they get all snarly, you can just snarl back. If you're not intending to hurt one of us, they'll back down. They'll even be glad if you snarl back, if you do it right. But I don't think you have anything to worry about. You did it pretty well when you got here, that's why everyone knows about you and wants to meet you. You were like a dark bomb in the webs. My name's Janaelle, who're you? Are you really a trainer? Daemon says that you are, but you haven't been glomping everyone."

Aela's head was reeling. Yes, a bit too much information. But two names had caught her attention. "Daemon, the same who's with your cousin that rules the area?" The outpouring of facts had _started_ to make sense, but then it was quickly blown away when they didn't add up.

This girl, Janaelle, (and wasn't it just a coincidence that two of the names of her favorite book characters were being used here?) looked at her like she was the silliest of geese.

"No," she laughed, "that is Witch's Daemon, the one I was talking about is the Daemon who is my constant 'no its too dangerous, Janaelle, you can't do that Janaelle, I just want you safe, Janaelle' Daemon. You know, the one who constantly pesters me and annoys me, and who is absolutely NOT 'my' Daemon, like Witch has 'her' Daemon."

Aela sat with a small frown on her face, digesting that statement for a second.

"You, have a lot of people named Daemon around here?"

"Yep, and each and every one goes through his Sadist stage when he evolves from chibi into san stage. Brr, that's a lot of guys who will go cold at the oddest things. And each one has a different trigger. But you still haven't told me your name." And then came the dreaded puppy dog eyes.

Aela crumpled.

"Michaela, but please call me Aela."

"Why?" Uh oh, there was that mischievous tone of voice. Aela knew that tone when the brats she used to babysit wanted to make her life hell by asking the 'why' game until she was pulling her hair out.

"Because all my friends do..." she said insinuatingly. If this Janaelle had any smarts, she'd intuit that Aela was offering to be her friend if she'd cut the crap.

It just so happened that she was in luck.

"Really?! OK Aela! But you'll have to call me... well, 'Janaelle' doesn't really have a nickname, but all the Lucivars call me 'little cat' or something like it. So does Daemon, but he can't do that."

Nodding sagely, Aela felt that she was just beginning to understand this precocious minx. And a little bit about this 'not-mine' Daemon who so obviously acted the elder brother. She was also absentmindedly petting Janaelle's hair while congratulating herself on her powers of perception when an actual purr erupted from the child on her lap. Aela's eyes widened visibly when she realized that this 'little cat' was breathing regularly through her nose. Humans just couldn't purr exactly like a feline. When they imitated the sound, it had to pass the vocal cords through their normal airways, which would usually interrupt the breathing patterns to a certain extent. Janaelle's purr was independent of her breath, just like a cat's.

It was the first hint Aela had that those around her weren't exactly human.

The resonant click of a solid wood door opening interrupted the cozy scene of a girl and a chibi cuddling. The stoking fingers halted their way through shimmering gold tresses and prompted Janaelle to protest their cessitation. Soft padding footsteps rounding the wingback had two sets of eyes trained on their instigator. Sapphire narrowed in compounded annoyance not only because the footsteps possessor irritated her on a constant basis, but additionally their presence stopped such wonderful hands from playing with her hair. No one but her mother, a Janaelle-sama knew just where to stroke, and when to massage, and chibi Janaelle was quite wroth.

Ebon pools regarded the entrant from the tips of his gold frosted and stylishly tousled hair to the matte black of his probably expensive leather shoes, and raised an eyebrow.

"Daemon, I presume?" she asked with a touch of frost inherent in her words.

A calculating cold gold gaze returned the favor. "Done oogling?" there was only the faintest bit of curiosity in his voice. For a new trainer invited to the Bishie worlds, she was showing remarkable restraint, even if she didn't know she was technically allowed to capture them.

A slow blink was his reply. Hmm.

Being unable to contain her outburst any longer, Janaelle spewed her childlike vitriol. "What are you doing here?"

And just like that, the attention was off Aela. She could only watch the chibi-baiting.

"My, my, little cat, forgotten so soon?"

"I didn't forget anything! I know we're here to see Witch!"

"Ah ah, dear, it seems you have missed something. Only _she_," gold orbs flicked in Aela's direction before moving on, "is supposed to see Witch. You weren't asked for."

"_What?!_" came the furious shriek, just before those same petting hands clamped gently over her mouth. Attention summarily diverted, and an almost puppyish betrayed look in her eyes begged for an explanation.

Aela only winced a bit before removing her hand. "Remember your knee? Just like that, only with your voice. It hurts."

And Janaelle quickly donned a contrite look. She hadn't meant for her new friend to feel pain. But Daemon, on the other hand... The Chibi returned a glare to her face and directed it back at the appropriate designated receiver.

But Daemon decided he wasn't going to notice. Instead, he only had an elegant brow raised at that little interaction. It normally took him a gag, some kicking struggles and an explanation to her mother before Chibi-Janaelle would leave off the shrieking if she got it into her mind to perpetuate it. Internally, it made him reassess the female holding what could possibly be the Realm's future Witch.

"I want to go with Aela!"

"Aela?"

"My name," the trainer said dryly, directing a silent look to her compatriot on her lap asking silently if this Daemon was acting the fool for her benefit. If he wasn't, then that certainly left some questions to be asked about his mental capacity.

Daemon caught that silent communication as it was not sent on a distaff thread; it was pure body language. With a slight scowl invoked, he curtly held out a long fingered hand to Janaelle and helped her off the 'dangerous new trainer'. He did not like his mental capacity being questioned so blatantly.

"It is past time for your appointment with Witch. Come. She is not usually kept waiting."

The words, "Indeed not," spoken with a mature midnight sepulcher voice killed the retort on Aela's lips. And it was such a good comeback too. Pity.

Leaning against a doorframe hidden in the wall near the desk was an older copy of the Janaelle standing just to the side of Aela's chair. It was Witch in all her glory, and the only san staged Janaelle in the entire Realm. But then, Aela didn't know that little pearl. All she knew was that all those little confusing puzzle pieces gathering in her head started to snap together.

"That... That wasn't just a gimmick website, was it?" The question tacked on at the end was asked much slower than the beginning.

And those terrifying Sapphires which eclipsed chibi-Janaelle's were peering into her soul. It was both stripping, and freeing. Terrifying that someone, anyone, could see so clearly what made her what she was, and also exhilarating. She would have nothing to hide with this person, and that Aela was important enough that such a powerful treasure of a person would look so deeply at her.

After endless, year-long seconds, Witch shook her head no. And when Aela was about to ask another question, a mischievous smile broke out on the adult Janaelle's mobile face and pre-empted the answer in a voice that lacked the resonant echo Witch had when the abyss lurked behind her words.

"And no, it wasn't a dream."

Aela frowned then. Her fingers clenched the ends of the armrests before using the grip to propel herself out of the cushiony clutches of the evil chair. With the forward momentum, she slowly padded her way around the desk to stand less than two feet from a character she had only read before in a book. Black eyes searched twinkling sapphire. When her hand reached up, the attendant Daemon tensed but subsided almost angrily when chibi-Janaelle smacked him.

Aela frowned, but followed through with her motion. She poked her.

Aela poked the embodiment of Witch.

Actually, Aela poked Witch in the cheek, which twitched a bit as that side of her face quirked into a smile.

When Aela retreated her appendage, she crossed her arms in contemplation as she declared, "So you ARE real. That's odd."

And Janaelle took one look at the picture this new trainer made, grumpy pose and all, and burst into laughter. Both Janaelles did. Daemon was left looking slightly bewildered at this odd reaction in his charge AND his Queen.

"Aela," it was the chibi-Janaelle speaking, "I like you. You find out about Bishies and poke our Queen, and all you can say is '_That's odd_'?

Aela looked a bit put out by the laughter, but her intrinsic jovial nature understood the humor of the situation. Her next words were spoken with that hint of humor only because of the repeated upheavals and shifts of moods and perspectives. She was not exactly running on all four cylinders quite yet.

"I was expecting to be raped and killed a couple of hours ago, so yes, it is rather odd."

End Chapter 3


	4. Chapter 4

A.N. Yeah, I know I'm a little shit, but c'mon, it wasn't that much of a cliffie. From the first chapter, you should have known what would have been the logical progression of events if she hadn't accepted the Trainer offer. But then again, you're probably throwing rotten fruit at be because I just left it at that, right? Well, don't fret. Here's another chappie.

Bishonen and Bishoujo: Daughter of the Mob

Chapter 4

It was the calm before the storm. It lasted exactly 4.5 seconds.

"What?" Uh-oh, the echo of the sepulcher voice was back. "You were threatened in MY Realm?" For those who could sense it, the dark webs the Queen usually crested started a slow downward spiral.

And although the question was asked of the seething Daemon, who by now was wondering what Aela went through before he and chibi-Janaelle reached her, it was Aela herself who answered.

"No." Well that momentarily checked the imminent plans of annihilation of one or more Blood males. "This was before I came here - to your Realm thingy."

She said it with such a calm voice. Neither Witch nor Daemon or even chibi-Janaelle could detect a tremor or tremble to her tone. It was so incongruous to the situation that Witch looked into Aela's eyes for a reassessment of her character. What she saw made even her shiver just for a moment. It was not that Aela had changed, per se. What Witch once thought of as just a facet to her personality had shifted to a greater focus. A shade of Aela's id had a hand on her words, kind of like how the Abyss echoed through Witch's. Except that Aela didn't echo. She just couldn't speak in anything less than an even tone unless she concentrated on it.

But what to do? While every Janaelle had hereditary memory gifted from their original character, this Witch had never experienced rape first hand. Neither had she have to deal with a serious violence. Her species were too well protected both because they were the Realm's heart and because they were very rare as well. The trainer's way of speaking wasn't exactly something to fret over, as it wasn't an impediment. But there was one thing Witch could do to help the traumatized girl. During her soul-searching, Witch had discovered a budding and twisted anger/fear for the male half of the species. It was quite suppressed at the moment, probably because of both hers and the chibi's auras were there to sooth the trainer, but if left alone, it might grow to become a danger to herself and those around her of the male persuasion. And that definitely was a hazard, as a good majority of the population of Bishie lands were males. After all, this world was a fangirl's paradise.

Witch contemplated those waiting dark eyes with an unbiased opinion. The trainer's lack of trust would hurt the males that would be drawn to follow her, and she WOULD attract a following... Janaelle smirked a bit as she regarded the attentive Daemon for a second. Perhaps the trainer had already made a start. This Daemon was looking at her with that hooded gaze Janaelle remembered from her own Daemon when they first met.

"Aela, was it?" It was the adult Janaelle and not Witch speaking this time.

Getting a little tired with all the deep looks and meaningful glances that obviously didn't include her, Aela was impatient to know the verdict. If this played out anything like the books, then Witch would lay a pronouncement, and that would be that. If she had any jewels to break, then she would be nervous, but as far as Aela knew, she would be considered a landen, and they were to be protected by ancient Blood law.

"Yes? Erm, yes, my lady?"

"Hahah, no need to stand upon ceremony. I just wanted to offer you something. From what you've said, I understand you've recently been through a trial and a half before ending up here. What I'm concerned with is the rent in your psychic aura. You seep a not irrational fear of men, considering. But still, that fear would hinder your exploits here. I am asking if you would like me to heal most of that rent. In all likelihood, it will never dissipate completely, but as it stands, if both the chibi and I were to leave the room, you would either savage poor Daemon here or go catatonic in fear."

At this, Aela looked over in the direction of the only male present with an eyebrow raised to match his own. She mulled the offer.

"None of my memories would be messed with?"

"No! I would never do that."

More silence as she thought about it.

Again, chibi-Janaelle couldn't keep her silence any longer.

"Aela, even if I don't like Daemon, I still wouldn't want you to hurt him. Or for you to be scared spitless. Please." She never finished what exactly she was pleading for.

Sooty lashes closed out the world momentarily before opening to watch chibi-Janaelle.

"Yes. Please." was all she said. She didn't want to live with a deadly fear either.

Once again, Witch was back in action. A meaningful look send Daemon out of the room dragging a mildly protesting chibi after him. Aela could just hear the words "...see your mother, little cat..." before a drawn out wail and further distance drowned it out.

"Please sit," Witch gestured languidly toward the armchair she had only recently vacated.

Aela glared at her comforting cushiony nemesis before complying. It was with wide eyes that she watched her first demonstration of the Craft as Witch drew another heavy armchair over to the one currently inhabited with only a wave of a hand.

Then, seated facing each other, Witch pulled a side table between the two and called in the frame for a web. Silk and several chips from her 'training' jewels were also brought in. She stared unfocused at something around Aela's head for a few minutes, but the trainer recognized Seeing when she saw it, if one might pardon the pun. Aela also knew not to interrupt a Healer/Black Widow when she was working.

Soon after, a web was quickly woven. It was an oddly beautiful mesh of a tunnel spider's web and an orb web. Decorated just there with the appropriate chips, Witch requested as a final touch a drop of the trainer's blood for each of the tether lines. When this was done, Witch followed with a drop of her own potent blood and the web sang to life.

Aela was drawn into staring at the shimmering strands. Her gaze was captured toward the center and fixated upon the chip of Black at the center of the tunnel. Aela felt like she was standing inside the web. That little chip of Black felt like the size of a basketball and she could feel the caressing energies of the web on all sides. They wafted like gossamer across and over her aura, seeking and sticking when they found the tearing fear and furious rage. More and more threads found their way to the rent and bridged their way across. It was a sharp sweet ache when they suddenly drew tight binding the tear. Most of the threads had gone over and within the rent to ensure a clean suture, but the few minor leftovers curled around the surface for a bit. They played around searching for any other puncture to repair, but finding none they abandoned the ether around the one they sought to heal.

Aela blinked, and the vision ended. She had to blink again before she registered that the Janaelle sitting across from her was no longer the Witch she originally sat down with. The side table was still between the chairs, but the web Witch had constructed was no longer whole. Only the frame rested on the wooden table. The silk had disappeared.

"Where-" Aela started before being interrupted.

"Witch gave you a tattoo!"

Blink blink.

"I beg your pardon?"

Janaelle burbled with happiness to be of help to her new friend. Her new tattooed friend.

"I saw the whole thing, well not the whole thing, as stupid Daemon dragged me away to see Mom, but I saw a good bit of it. You were in a trance for a coupla' hours and the web threads just lifted off one at a time and then disappeared when they found something, but the last two apparently couldn't find anything else. But they did lift off, and they swirled around you, and finally touched your face. Then, well they didn't disappear, cause I can see them now, but you've definitely got to see a mirror."

With a bit of trepidation to her soul if not her voice, Aela bit the bullet.

"Do you know where I can find a mirror? I don't think I ever read anything about Witch giving someone a tat from a healing web before."

At this, Janaelle positively _wriggled_ as she waved a hand up in the air in a bid for more attention.

"Ooh! I had a lesson in conjuring stuff with the Craft yesterday! Grandpa Saetan number two was arguing with Grandpa Saetan number five about what they should teach me next when one of the Lucivars kidnaped me from 'quibbling old biddy sama Guardians' and taught me some of the simpler conjurings. I've gotten all the advanced stuff down, but he was able to explain it better than some of the Grandpa Saetans."

Janaelle looked expectantly at Aela, who just returned the favor flavored with a look that spelled 'well? Where were you going with that speech?'

"Oh!" was the reply before the chibi made a grabbing motion in the air with a little pink tongue sticking out in concentration. Lo and behold, a small hand mirror came into being. The backing was a tarnished brass instead of the aimed for gold, and there was a little waver in the reflection, but it was a functional mirror. Janaelle tried handing it over with a dejected air. She hadn't gotten it perfect for her friend.

Instead, the two and a half foot chibi got swept into a hug amidst exclamations of appreciative awe and support. When settled, both Aela and Janaelle shared a sinking cushion in the evil chair as the raven haired trainer took note of the changes those rogue threads left on her face.

Reflected back with one little waver was a lightly tan face topped by luxurious curls of raven wing black. Olive black pupils peered back from almond eyes as they traced a new black line a scant distance from her lower lashes on her left eye. The line swept back like an exotic stroke from an eyeliner and winged out halfway to her hairline. It was intersected with another black slash following parallel to her hairline, but this one was shorter and curved sinuously. In fact...

"Wait a second! That second one is _moving_!" Aela gasped.

"Yup!" Janaelle was all cheer. "It changes. When I first saw it, it looked like a flower. Now it looks like an Erieyan (sp?) tribal design. I heard Witch doesn't make them for many people. Its so great that you have one!"

"But what exactly does it mean?"

"Mean? It doesn't mean much of anything other than Witch liked you. Well, liked you enough to make sure you have a roving healer web. It s'posed to be there in case you get hurt. And if its bad enough, the web sends out a distress call."

"It does? How?"

"Silly, all healing webs are tied to the energy of its maker. That's what I'm told by all the Grandpa Saetans. That's why the weaver puts a drop of blood in."

"Oh." Aela was subdued.

"Yeah... Oh..." Janaelle picked up on the mood. "But at least you don't fear males now, right?"

"Heheh, yeah, I suppose so. I know what they can do, but I also realize not everyone is like...well...I wonder what I should be doing now? Am I going to be living with you guys?"

Janaelle brightened like a terrawatt bulb before slouching.

"No. I wish you could. I just remembered that humans aren't allowed to live in Bishie lands. Usually, you're not allowed to visit or even know where they are."

"Why not?"

"And just what has our little Janaelle been telling you, dear?"

Eep! Both girls whirled at the voice. It was getting a bit repetitive being sneaked up on so many times. Aela vowed to expand her situational awareness. She was tired of the surprises.

"Oh my? My niece gave you a roving healer web? How becoming it looks."

Just how many Janaelle's were there?! Aela quickly sized up this new one. From what she said and if taken in context...

"Janaelle's mother? And is that? Twilight's Dawn?"

An older version of both Witch and the child. If Aela believed in mythology, she had just seen all three incarnations of the mother goddess. Not exactly, since Witch wasn't a mother, and the eldest by no means was a crone. No, but little Janaelle's mom had definitely aged gracefully.

"Correct and correct, young lady. You certainly have your facts straight. But I'm afraid, daughter, that its time for your little friend to go."

A trembling lip and giant tears hung at the corners of innocent sapphire eyes.

"Don't play coy with me, darling, you know all trainers must go through their orientation at a human city, and that's no place for the likes of us. My niece has asked me to transport her, and I'll do so without a fuss. Run along now. I think your father misses his little kitten." Janaelle's mother made shooing motions with her hands, and it was with dragging feet that the child exited.

Silence once more descended.

It wasn't that this elder Janaelle was evil or mean or anything, but... She just rubbed Aela the wrong way. By no means an expert, the dark human could still determine some readily apparent differences between the three Janaelles she had just met that day. This one obviously had no qualms in talking about her when she was standing there in the same room. And this new sapphire gaze wouldn't settle onto steady black orbs. They kept flickering off in order to look at anything but the trainer in their presence.

Not wanting to form a nasty opinion about her little friend's mother, Aela took her mother's famous velveted steel approach to gracious manners. Her matrilineal blood took care of the even tone that chastised by not reacting.

"May I ask where I am going?"

This minutely prodded her host back into her role without seeming churlish.

"Why yes! I am sorry dear, I drifted for a moment. Children, you know, especially if they are your own. I swear, she is going to be a precocious one if she ever ascends to Witch. Ah, but you have inquired as to your destination. It is a quaint human town by the name of Evol."

Blinking seemed a fine habit Aela was rapidly picking up.

"Evil?"

"Don't let the name fool you, I'm told the people are quite nice."

"You're sending me to an evil town? Named Evil?"

Janaelle the elder bustled over and laid a hand on the shoulder of the human. It flinched a bit before grasping gently.

"No no no, dear, you're being difficult. Ee Vee Oh El." She sighed as she entered the webs with her passenger. Amidst the strong undertows of the Black, Janaelle the elder set her sights on the distant pinprick of light that signified Evol. It had to be a town far away from the Realms. Otherwise, it violated the rules of trainers and Bishies. This Aela person had to have no way to tell where the Realm was located. Otherwise, who knew what the human would tell other trainers. And her precious chibi might be in danger. Chibi-Janaelle might even be caught! It was either this, or Witch would wipe her memories. And as much as Janaelle the mother wished Witch had chosen that option, her niece had firmly denied that avenue for whatever reason. It was so irresponsible. Why when _she_ was Witch...

----

In the nice quaint good-natured town of Evol, something happened that was only slightly out of the average. In the middle of the central square, a female figure popped into being a foot in the air only to have gravity reassert its hold. A rump landing and some calm cursing brought a resident of Evol over.

"Hey? You alright?"

Looking up into the bright light of an afternoon sun, this new arrival made out the features of... ... ...

"AAAAUGH!"

It is quite understandable, Aela's reaction to the townsperson, if one knew her experiences. The first thing she could make out of the person above her was a garish purple. It looked fuzzy, and after the barest of seconds, she could make out what looked like an obese T-rex on waffy steroids.

Aela's instinctive right hook and mad crabwalk backwards away from the monstrosity can easily be explained. In a nutshell, those really evil kids she babysat? Lets just say they found her phobia about purple dinosaurs and exploited it.

The person inside the costume couldn't see his attacker anymore, what with the head spun 180 degrees around, but he certainly could hear her.

"I knew it, this town is evil."

All he could wonder is how a newbie trainer knew the town's name. The sign, 'Welcome to Evol, the Happy Family Town' was behind her.

End Chapter 4

A.N. I'm an evol s.o.b. even if I'm the wrong gender and I happen to lovE my mom, and as far as I know, I was born on the correct side of the sheets... After all, I have an older sibling. But the evol thing still stands, yes?


	5. Chapter 5

A.N.

Bishonen and Bishojo: Daughter of the Mob

Chapter 5

It was only after the guy pulled off the head of the costume that Aela could calm her hyperventilation. It was an ordinary looking guy of about eighteen wearing that horrid outfit. Shaggy brown hair disheveled and a bit sweaty from being roasted inside the head of evil nonetheless framed eyes of hazel streaked with mint. Those eyes were chary of any further violence at the moment and he very cautiously placed the disembodied head behind him and out of sight before even approaching the wary girl again.

This time staying well away from strike range, he asked again, "Hey, miss, you alright?"

"Um, yeah... I guess so." She kept her eyes trained directly on his face, her gaze never straying below his neck to keep from burning her eyes out in agony. Half of her subconscious responsible for using the observation senses sent a memo to the id portion for processing. It mentioned that the guy wasn't that displeasing to the eye. It was summarily noted and then flambéd by id, who issued the authorization on account of a fragile psyche when it came to guys just yet. Witch's healing web helped calm the rage and curtail the fear, but there was still an uneasiness when it came to thinking about the other half of the species in a complimentary manner.

"You're new, right? Found the website and clicked the button to become a trainer?" He had a crooked tooth revealed by his crooked grin. Aela's id asked the Observation Post to keep watch in case the guy himself was crooked as well.

"Sounds about right." Observation Post noted the request and flambéd it on principle. Sent another memo. There was a cartoon caricature of a Japanese red eye and the word 'biidaa'. Id was left to fume. Id was good at that.

"That's great then! I'm Joe Dohn."

"Aela."

"Just Aela?"

She gave him a blank sort of stare, silently asking 'what's it to you?'. Her childhood taught her that telling her new friends too much inevitably sent them away, or hurt them.

"Ok then, just Aela it is! Since you're new, you'll have to attend an orientation class. Everyone does. Its free, doesn't take too much time, gets you set up for adventurin', and, well, it doesn't exactly hurt too much either, so that's a good point!"

Aela found herself nodding along with each of the points Joe made, but paused at the mention of pain.

"Are you joking about pain?"

The crooked grin was back. "Nope!" he chirped, "It only hurts at first, when they stick your finger in the machine, but you won't have to do it anymore afterwards." He acted like he was doing her such a _great_ favor.

A little suspicious, "What machine?"

Joe's overly innocent eyes opened wide. "Oh, did I say a machine? You'll have to find out in orientation! They'll explain it all there, and much better than me. C'mon!"

And then he tried to grab her wrist in his natural bout of excitement. It wasn't often a new trainer popped up, and Aela was the first he got to introduce to the wonderful world of Bishies himself.

Two things went wrong. One was that he forgot he was wearing a cumbersome costume. The other was that Aela was not fond of strangers, especially those donning the likeness of her much feared phobia, grabbing any part of her. So when he tried to take her wrist, she side-stepped.

Unfortunately, when Joe stumbled from his missed grab, it attracted the attention of a bottle green triceratops a little ways away. Instantly assessing the cause of her trainer's mishap to be this upstart girl, the unlikely hued fuzzy dinosaur charged up to her with aura blazing in a protective rage and grossly invaded Aela's personal bubble.

Her battle cry of 'STOP PICKING ON J-CHAN!' was interrupted most aggressively when Aela processed the _other _mind numbing nemesis of her babysitting days not more than an inch from her face.

WHAP! went another right hook, and another costume head suddenly found its plastic beady eyes staring at the view from the back.

"Akane-chan! Are you alright?"

What Aela said was "Akane?" Simultaneously, id proffered an, 'Oops?'

Joe glared up at her momentarily. He was standing next to a kneeling and wobbly green suit of terror trying to pull off the head and check on his bishojo. He softened his expression when sincere apology crossed Aela's features, and then turned an exasperated look at his first bishojo.

Aela's help was readily accepted, but her offer was mostly made in order to get a chance of symbolically decapitating the green menace than in any overt remorse. Meanwhile, Joe was chiding Akane. It blew Aela's mind when AKANE, the violent maniac of the Ranma ½ series accepted the chastisement without much denial or fuss and even apologized for startling her.

"Erm, don't worry about it. I'm the one who should apologize, it was a reflex reaction. But, why ARE you two wearing those appalling suits? You _do _know they should be burned right?" Aela's serious face belied Joe and Akane's expectant grin, as they were waiting for her to laugh and dissemble and tell them Barney and Baby Bop weren't evil and shouldn't be incinerated on sight.

When Aela didn't repent, a sweat drop formed on the back of her new acquaintances heads.

"I'm not sure what to tell you, Aela. These characters are the village mascots. Its traditional to have them wander around the village square and greet everybody."

A disbelieving look was his reward. "So how does that answer why you two are the ones who inhabit said malevolent personas?"

Akane took that one. "Money," she said simply. "Why else would we parade around in stifling outfits making fools of ourselves on a summer's day?"

Id decided it was too easy. Aela had no qualms, but she merely directed a _look_ at Joe who blushed and looked away. It went right over Akane's head.

"Unfortunately, we lost our last fight, and the money lost in the bet would have seen us to the next town. I still had expenses for feeding and housing us, so I couldn't risk another battle. Akane found this gig, and we've been doing it for a week. I know it looks funny, but its good money, and after another week, we'll be set to travel for another three towns."

Aela gave a sigh with downcast head while patting the air in an 'alright, alright' motion. "You've got my pity, now, please, show me to this 'orientation' thing you've been talking about."

When Joe brightened and bounded away toward a building with a rounded dome and the word BishieCenter on the wall, Akane turned to Aela.

"I know, he's like a puppy, right?"

Aela nodded. Got it in one. Then she went 'hurk!' as Akane hoisted her up by her collar. An ultimatum was delivered in the voice of doom.

"You kick my puppy and what I did to P-chan will seem like a sweet dream compared to what I do to you. Capice?"

Id began plotting various revenge scenarios as soon as the collar tightened around Aela's neck. Obs Post wondered what exactly happened to P-chan, as the series depicted Akane as very lenient toward the Jusenkyou cursed martial artist cum pet pig. Aela sent a little bit of Id into her night black eyes as she stared very calmly into the burning infernos of the bishojo's gaze. Those same fires were swiftly banked with her captive's nod of acquiescence as well as the underlying threat that shimmered beneath a thin veil of civility.

Aela was dropped when Akane also noticed that the barbaric tattoo beside the newbie trainer's eye had mutated. Black swirls and tribal slashes twisted into a small jagged dragon whose head peeked across Aela's temple. Akane's eyes were glued to that sharp savage head as it bared its fangs at her and silently roared.

The bishojo was saved from explaining her actions when Joe popped up from over her shoulder, startling them both from their impromptu staring contest.

"C'mon! I've got you scheduled for the next orientation. You're in luck, since one other newbie happened to pop in at the outskirts of town. Otherwise, they'd tell you to wait for the next crop of trainers to be invited."

With both females successfully chivvied into the designated building, Joe gallumphed up to a man wearing a white labcoat. The headless purple dinosaur was promptly given the hairy eyeball.

"Where is your head?"

All in innocence, Joe answered, "Screwed on with two lugnuts. You know Frankenstein was my brother."

The labcoat just cradled his forehead in his hand momentarily before WHAPPING Joe upside the head. "The suit, moron! Where is the SUIT'S head? If you don't have it, AND the triceratops head in fifteen seconds, I'm going to hire another poor sap who needs the money."

Blink blink. "Oh." And then Joe darted off dragging his erstwhile one and only bishojo behind him, dangling like a flag. Aela swore they left an anime dust cloud, if only for a second.

"So you must be the new trainer Dohn was blabbering about." A scrutinizing eye was, well, also giving her the hairy eyeball.

Wary, as her first impression of the labcoat guy wasn't too nice, (he kicked the puppy after all) she raised a brow. "Yes," she said, but her tone turned it into the familiar 'what's it to ya?'

Aela thought she was prepared for most anything he could throw at her, but when a small weight was laid on her shoulder and a creepy eerie voice whisper/shouted in her ear, "Wiggly Icchan likes the new trainer!" she froze on the spot. She turned like the dumb blonde in the horror flicks, slowly and with wide eyes to behold a disturbing sight. Another lab coated male with messy dark hair was gyrating in a wiggling fashion as he laughed maniacally. When he noticed her undivided attention was solely centered upon himself, Ichirou Mihara, better known as Icchan-san from Angelic Layer, removed his hand from her shoulder and _slithered_ back to his trainer, the original man in a labcoat. When he popped up over the trainer's shoulder like the demonic half of a duo chibi conscience and looked at her expectantly, Aela merely held up a hand, indicating 'wait a moment please'.

Her other hand went to her forehead with fingers spanning her temples as she gave a forceful sigh. Seconds were measured by the ticking of a clock over a counter. With a final shake of her head, Aela dropped both hands and looked back at the unmoving spectacle of the labcoats.

"I'm alright now. Please, what were you going to say?" It seems she had regained her manners during her little time out. Either that, or she had just become inured to the surprises this new land habitually cropped up and was willing to move on.

The man who had chastised the headless duo was looking at her with a faint amused interest.

"I'm Professor Hojo, no relation to Final Fantasy VII's Hojo. Behind me is Icchirou, one of the main side characters from an anime called Angelic Layer." He paused here when she nodded in comprehension before moving on, "If you would move into the next room, you can meet the other new trainer and we can start the orientation. Its not normal to have so small an orientation, but I suppose Tokio-sama and LSS-sama had a hard time this month finding candidates with suitable qualities who would do well in this world."

Aela followed his gesture, and entered the next room through a door near the counter with the ticking clock under the creepy gaze of a watching Icchan-san.

Her new surroundings looked like a typical small conference room cum classroom. Several long tables were staggered throughout the room with pairs of chairs behind each. The walls had various charts up with geographic maps, territory maps, a classification table of several common Bishies, etc. There was even one with the food pyramid and two caricatures of an unhealthy bishie who didn't follow the pyramid and a contrasting healthy bishie who was fed correctly.

Only the front desk dead center had an occupant. And there was an inviting chair slid out partially next to her. Aela spent a few seconds studying the other girl. Light brown hair with streaks of an ashy blonde was done up in a neat but casual ponytail. The ends flipped over the collar of a kickass leather jacket and fell just below the shoulder blades. Most of the rest of her was hidden since she was facing front, away from the door, but night dark eyes spied a laptop open on the desk and a window that showed multiple streams of unintelligible numbers and letters streaming by, a la The Matrix.

When Hojo coughed, impatient to get on with his job and get the nuisances away so he could continue his experiments, the other trainer's attention swivelled to catch Aela's gaze as she moved further inside. Black met peculiar round orange lenses a la Alucard or Vash, but the shades were immediately lowered to reveal blue. Aela could immediately tell the other girl would not be a threat. There was also a sense of impermanence to the older girl for some odd reason.

For a stranger in an even stranger land, the other girl seemed more interested in her laptop program than what Hojo was going to explain to her.

Aela took a seat next to laptop girl and turned her attention forward. This had better be a good explanation or she was going to kick the puppy, Akane or no Akane.

Professor Hojo had no laser pointer, no projector and screen, no real audience either, but he did an adequate job nonetheless.

"This," he began, pointing at a pouting Icchan-san, "Is a Bishonen. Since you're here, you have received an email to a website. You clicked on the acceptance button. You should already have an idea of what's going on. Any anime, any popular book series, any real character is now a living, breathing person in this world. And you've got a license to capture them. Its like Pokemon, but with Bishonen and Bishojo.

"That's good looking boys for 'Bishonen' and pretty girls for 'Bishojo'," he added as a look of utter incomprehension crossed laptop girl's face.

"There are restrictions, rules, and basic things you should know. Each series is separated by territories. If you want a Gundum Wing character, your best bet is to go to their territory. They're more common there. Its rare, but you can sometimes find a bishie outside of their territory. In each territory, there is also a hidden bishie city. I cannot stress enough that they are hidden for a reason. Trainers are not allowed to seek them. You may not ask your bishies about them, you may not go there, you may not tell anyone where one is. If you break any of this, you will first be subjected to the bishies' discipline, and if they turn you over to LSS-sama or Tokio-sama, you will be deported to the real world, never to come back."

He sighed. Aela had a hand up in the air patiently, as if in a crowded and noisy class.

"You, annoying one in the front."

A slight glare was her beginning answer before she asked the question on her mind.

"Tokio-sama and LSS-sama are _who_ exactly?"

Ah, a halfway intelligent question. Hojo answered promptly.

"They are the administrators of this world. They have final say on pretty much everything, as they pretty much created everything here."

Icchan-san popped in again at his shoulder when Aela opened her mouth for another question. "Don't ask how! We aren't telling!" he taunted in his silly voice.

Aela dropped her hand, shooting a glance at her tablemate to see if any backup was coming from that direction. Alas, no, as blue eyes were watching the mesmerizing numbers rapidly stream across the screen.

"If there are no further interruptions..."

There were no crickets, but the clock from the other room faintly ticked before Hojo moved on.

"Bishies have three evolutionary stages they go through as they age and gain experience. If you know any Japanese honorifics, these will be familiar. First is chibi. That's the equivalent to a child. It is not a good idea to capture a chibi staged _anything_, as it is akin to kidnaping a child. Plus, you'll have really powerful parents who will come after you for doing so. Its not a deportation offense, but it definitely is not in your best interests to do so.

"A chibi evolves into a san staged bishie when he or she gains enough experience and/or is driven to it by willpower or desperate circumstances. This is their teenager and young adult equivalent. They are now socially acceptable for capture.

"The final stage is a sama bishie. They are now at the height of their power. It is not suggested for new trainers to capture one, as they are hard to adapt to, but if you gain one's trust, there is no better friend or protector. The human equivalent would be anywhere between middle to old age. And because each species is different, you'll have varying levels of power across the board. Multiples of the same species will also have differences from canon, so be aware.

"For example, Icchirou here, has absolutely no interest in bionic robotics, like in the anime."

"Yeah! Wiggly Icchan likes chemistry!" came from the peanut gallery.

Hojo gave a semi-scornful laugh before he elaborated. "Its more like you like pyrotechnics. You enjoy explosions."

Icchan-san's insane grin took on new proportions and a demonic cast.

That got a sweatdrop from even laptop girl to match the one Aela grew.

"But enough about that!" he said dropping the incendiary look and began rubbing his hands. "Onto the good stuff."

Hojo merely nodded.

"You will have a grace period of two weeks in order to catch your first bishie. If you haven't caught one by the deadline, it will be taken as a sign that you do not wish to remain here and will be sent back. If you ever break all of your Bishieballs, the same will be assumed, and again, you'll be deported. By the way, breaking your Bishieball is a way to permanently release the Bishonen or Bishojo. You must have at least one bishie captured at all times.

Concerning the responsibilities to your captured bishies, there are two hard and fast rules. Once you catch one, they are bonded to you through your DNA. Prolonged separation beyond forty eight hours or beyond a distance of three miles will cause them to go mad and die. It is a terribly painful and horrifying way to perish. I suggest you break their ball if you ever find yourself in such circumstances. Engrave it into your minds: three miles, forty eight hours."

Aela committed these words to memory. She too had barely escaped a terrible fate. She wasn't inclined to make someone undergo anything remotely similar. Beside her, a small beep emerged from the previously humming laptop and a depressed sigh came from its owner. But since Hojo was continuing, the younger trainer didn't have a chance to inquire.

"There are some benefits, since you two are new. During your two week grace period, you have the option to requisition supplies from any store. The limit is very high, so you should get anything you think you'll need, but don't be wasteful. The shopkeepers will be reimbursed by the administration and they don't like newbies wasting their tax dollars on that super shiny gold Bishieball when a regular one is perfectly serviceable.

"I'll also provide you with a Dex. They're a combination phone, address book, credit card, bishie index and will also catalogue your captures. They serve as an I.D. for any tournament registrations and have a compartment in the back for badges. You should come back to a BishieCenter periodically for Dex updates. Who knows what those idiots in the tech department will come up with next..." the last was muttered to the fervent nodding of the pyromanically inclined Icchan-san.

"You get money mainly through betting on battles with other trainers, but there are other ways. Dohn and his bishojo out there are doing one of them. In essence, find a job you slackers! Now, I think I covered everything, but if not, I've programed the BishieCenter's number into your Dex. If you have questions, which I hope not, call me, and I'll have someone else get you squared away. Now get out of here, you're bothering me." He had since placed two identical Dexes on the table in front of either trainer before sitting at the 'teacher's' desk and rifling through paperwork.

And with that abrupt dismissal, Aela slowly climbed to her feet followed by the girl sitting next to her closing her laptop and slinging it into a carry case by her feet.

Pyro-Icchan was looking at his trainer with distressed puppy eyes.

"But Boss?!" he whined, "Aren't we going to poke them now? With big square rusty seventeen gauge needles?"

Hojo looked at his bishie blankly before comprehension dawned. He snapped his gaze to the two girls trying to sneak out hastily after hearing that.

"Oh yes," he breathed sadistically. At least, that's what Aela and the other girl thought. And since Pyro-Icchan caught their collars before they made it outside, they continued to think of him in an ill manner.

Icchan-san frog-marched them over to the counter in the outer room with Professor Hojo trailing like a bloodthirsty vampire bat. On the counter were several machines and piles of paperwork. The girls were halted in front of a small one inset where the wall met the counter as it bent in an L-shape.

Aela was hustled in front of it first, and as she glanced wildly back, the other girl was frantically typing something into her laptop. Rats! Again no help.

Hojo looked between the trainers. What was wrong with them? If they didn't register their DNA, it wouldn't be in the system for when they wanted more Bishieballs made. Oh yeah, he grinned... He hadn't told them that part yet.

"Don't worry," he purred, "It doesn't hurt...Much."

"That's what Joe said," Aela muttered in a disturbingly calm voice as her hand was manipulated against he will into a fist with forefinger extended. It was then inserted into the recipient machine's indicated aperture. And, believe it or not, the whole incident was quickly over with a hiss and a slight sting. Aela likened it to what 'Uncle' Tony had to go through with his insulin blood tests. It really didn't hurt much.

When she was released, the machine hummed and chugged and turned out six Bishieballs in a tray with a DING! Gathering her prizes up, the dark trainer turned to glare at the unhelpful girl.

The blonde-streaked brunette only halted her furious typing when she realized nothing truly painful had gone on with the guinea pig, erm, trainer.

She held her hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll stick my finger in the hole, but it had better be sanitary."

After Professor Hojo assured her of the sanitization measures the Bishieball maker took, the whole process was accomplished without further fuss. The other trainer got her six spheres, and the terrible lab coated duo went off on their merry mayhem way leaving the girls in the deserted front room. The clock was still ticking softly away.

"Well that was terribly interesting."

The other girl was inspecting her generic Bishieballs before looking up with her blue eyes. Aela finally noticed an outer rim of white on the blue, which quite made for the ethereal effect.

"I'm Onee."

"Aela."

"..."

"..."

"You're not going to ask as to the single name?"

"No. Neither are you?"

"No."

More silence for a second.

"My computer indicates that my brother isn't here. I'm going to have to look for him elsewhere."

Aela looked puzzled. "How does your computer find that out?"

"It scans the dimension I'm in for familial signatures. There's none here, but it definitely seems an interesting place."

"Dimension?"

"Yeah. Believe it or not, I didn't get that email Jojo was talking about."

"Hojo."

"That's what I said. I mean, I just input the next coordinates on my list, pressed enter, and popped up on the outskirts of this whacked town."

"Oh... That's cool I guess. You'll come back sometime?" As earlier, Aela was ready to accept almost anything at this point.

The now named Onee looked thoughtful. "Sure. Once I find my brother." She then flipped open her Dex and in an annoying mechanical voice it said, "Hello. My name is Dex and I am the Bishonen/Bishojo guide to a trainer. Please state trainer's name aloud."

The two traded exasperated looks. Apparently they both had experience with Pokemon.

When Aela cracked her own Dex open, it said the same thing. The girls had to spend five minutes laying all the groundwork and being as literal as possible in order to accomplish setting up their devices so they could exchange their information. When finished, they shook hands with their new friend and wished each other luck on their respective journeys. Onee turned to her laptop once more, clicked a few more keys and then pressed 'Enter'.

In a small glow of light around her figure, reality twisted as she calmly faded. It spoke of much familiarity with the process. Within seconds, there was no trace that Onee had ever set foot in the world. She had taken her Dex and Bishieballs with her.

Minutes after Aela made it through the door and out into the wide friendly town of Evol, several uniformed figures with 'administration' tags rushed into the BishieCenter causing a minor commotion as they disturbed the Professor and his Bishonen during a flammable experiment.

Aela made it back to the outskirts of town when a plume of smoke rose on the skyline behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

Bishonen and Bishojo: Daughter of the Mob

Chapter 6

Aela soon found the Professor's guarantee of free stuff for the first two weeks to be true. She started at an item store a few blocks away that featured a lot of camping gear. She wanted to stay relatively close, since it was getting late in the afternoon, and she wasn't familiar with the town just yet.

The lady at the service counter had her query the Dex, which promptly verified the authenticity to Aela's claim of being a newbie. The service lady, whose name was Ethel by the way, led her to the center of the store with money signs shining in her eyes and whispered the magic words for every girl, "Shopping spree!" With a shopping cart in tow, the redoubtable iron haired lady was picturing the commission she would receive from the government for helping the newbie.

When Aela finally rid herself of the annoying help, she found she still had to make several decisions. She gathered from Hojo's orientation that the bishie world was a variant of the pokemon world. Although there was transportation to be had from city to city, most of the action was to be found on the journey. To make the most of each journey, one had to walk it, which entailed camping. The dark trainer had absolutely no real experience with camping, being cooped up in a city her entire life, and so had to make some logical guesses as to the necessities.

'A roof of some sort over my head, food supplies, and clothes,' she thought ruefully. It hadn't been a problem before, but to be realistic, the thin tank top and loose comfortable shorts were the pj's she was wearing when her mama rousted her out of bed during the crisis. Slipper sandals had been provided somewhere down the line by the bishies from the Dark Jewels Realm, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember when she got them. No one had mentioned anything in Evol because of the warm weather, but Aela certainly did not consider her attire to be outside wear. Plus, they were stained and ripped in some places. How they got that way... probably as a side effect of traveling to this land.

In the end, Aela pushed her little cart to the checkout. Contrary to the avariciousness of many beginning trainers, she did not pile high with all of the accouterments she thought she absolutely needed. Onto the counter went a simple two to three person collapsible dome tent. A larger was passed over on account of carrying weight. She had to carry it after all, it couldn't be too big. As an added bonus, its carry case also doubled as a backpack frame.

Next went a simple Swiss army knife. Aela always wanted one and figured it might be useful. A map of the surrounding cities was plucked from the stands next to the register. For a moment, she held it, hesitating to place it with the rest of her goods. With a free hand, she pulled the Dex from a pocket and cracked it. After the stupid annoying voice greeted her, she brought up the map function and compared it to the one in her hand. Dex had all the salient large features and roads, but the hardcopy had listings of attractions and points of interest along the way, as well as a rough calendar of events. The map went into the pile.

"That's it? A tent, a map, and a Swiss Army knife?" Ethel was incredulous. There went her big commission.

"What's wrong?" Aela asked dryly. She knew how the sales biz worked. "Aren't we given two weeks to make our choices?"

Ethel gaped a bit before regaining her composure. "Yes, well, most trainers just dive right in..." she trailed off.

"And they grab everything in sight, especially the pricey flashy items in the front right? Found _this_ tent on the bottom shelf hidden a bit behind the grand six person inflatable tent."

"Good job?" Aela didn't know if Ethel was congratulating her or just questioning the sense of letting a commission escape her grasp.

A laugh was automatically suppressed, but the dark trainer did allow her dry humor to quirk a smile through. "I might come back if I find I've forgotten something."

Ethel shared the smile, "I'll be here if you do."

Aela arranged her new items into the backpack after the sales clerk tallied them and the trainer signed a slip. It was kinda like a credit card, she mused, except she didn't have to pay it off next month, especially as the paper was slipped into a slot in Dex to get it stamped with her trainer number and other pertinent information such as date and the two week authorization sigil for newbie shopping sprees.

Following that, Aela shouldered her new long-term burden and exited the shop. Looking around, she wondered as to the next step. The lengthening shadows indicated the onset of night. Best to get a room at an inn. Consultation with her new map which included such features made her aware of the little town's two choices. The first, and by far the grander took up a whole block of the center square. In fact, she passed it on her way out of the BishieCenter. The other was situated a little on the outskirts, and catered more to the permanent travelers of the lands than those who wanted to sample town life to the fullest.

As Aela shuddered at the possibility of running into Joe and his Akane in their suits again, she opted for the inn on the outskirts. It took the trainer twenty minutes to successfully skirt the square out of sight and make her way to the worn yet comfortable establishment that would put her up for the night.

Just those few minutes carting around her backpack gave Aela a niggling sense that she wasn't quite fit yet for long term travel. It wasn't that the backpack dug into her shoulders or was ill made, oh no. Aela was beginning to feel an achy strain in her shoulders and back just keeping it balanced. Id felt like shaking its internal head. She was such a city girl.

Opening the glass door to the lobby mildly startled the bishie-less trainer as a tinkly bell at the top chimed with the door's motion. The sound that heralded customers popped the sleep bubble expanding and contracting from the nose of a sleeping female with pink hair done up in weird giant curls around her ears. Straightening up, a bonafide Nurse Joy wiped away sleep from her eyes as her customary smile was fixed into place.

"Hello and welcome!" she chirped. "I'm Hostess Joy! Do you have a reservation for tonight?"

Aela... well, Aela was many things at this point. In the space of one day, she had her sense of personal security shattered, she was transported to a wildly different land, she had met several versions of characters from her favorite series and got a tattoo. She was dropped on her bum in a blatantly evil town and scared by the nemesis of her babysitting days. She was told she could capture said favorite characters and that it was a way of life in this land. She had met a dimension traveler looking for her brother. She found out that no matter where you go, the sales ladies always want a commission. And to top it off, she was tired.

... "No."

A bit of silence as 'Hostess' Joy digested the one word pronouncement.

"Do - you want a room for the night?"

No, Aela was standing there, in an inn, for her health. In just a second, she's going to feel more refreshed and will walk out without getting a freaking room for the night.

"Yes." Raven curls danced as the head they capped nodded an affirmative. She may be many things, but deliberately rude with no real provocation was not one of them.

That affirmation set Joy into bubbly motion. The Dex was soon handed over for its processing stamp and a room key was handed back with it. Room 11 was pointed down the hall and to the left, and Aela trudged off after also placing an order for room service. Much of her energy was sapped just processing much of her changed situations.

Reaching the designated door, the key was inserted, and with only the slightest bit of jiggling, the door opened into a traditional neutral room. As Aela did not have any registered Bishies, there was only a single bed. It was also simply furnished with a veneer plywood table with a phone and a cheaply upholstered but comfy looking chair. The bathroom with its generic features were tucked behind an unobtrusive door next to the exit. All the basic comforts of home were present, right down to the mid-sized TV sitting on a low dresser with empty drawers.

Aela slung her backpack onto the only chair and flopped back onto the coverlet, only to curse as little spheres dug into her lower back. Almost forgot about those. The six Bishieballs still strapped onto the regulation belt had ooched their way around to the small of her back, where the new trainer had apparently 'misplaced' them. After all, out of sight out of mind.

With an inaudible sigh, the girl unsnapped the buckle and used only the minimum of movement to arch her back and pull the belt out. Not looking up, she flung it toward the chair only to hear them _thunk_ against something and fall to the floor. Missed shot. Basketball star she was not.

Lying there and letting the seconds tick away toward night, Aela almost missed the quiet knock on the door heralding room service. It was with great effort that she made it vertical and staggered over to the portal to edible goodness. A look through the peephole almost gave her cavities, as it was none other than 'Hostess' Joy beaming back at her with all her kinds' sugary sweetness. Perhaps it was bred into them like instinctive silence was bred into her line? Nah...

With the now customary Dex Stamp, the precious food changed hands and soon the door was barred to inedible cavity inducing sweetness. Aela felt that if she was going to get painful toothaches, she was darn well going to enjoy the sweets it took to achieve them. But as she wasn't a fan of masochism, her fare was simple, rather indicative of the inn itself, as well as balanced. And soon eaten as it may. With the meal's demise, and the tray placed outside the door for later pickup, the bed was looking more and more inviting. Flopping back down, but underneath the comforter this time, Aela let sleep flirt across her heavy eyelids before succumbing with a few thoughts. One, wondering what was happening with the chibi-Janaelle. Two, how was she going to pull off capturing her first Bishie before the deadline. And third, she had to get some clothes. She was still in her darn pyjamas.

ZZZzzzZZZzzz.

zzzZZZzzzZZZ

ZZZzzzZZZzzz

So deep at night that it was actually early morning, something stirred in Aela's room.

A shadow among shadows appeared and stealthily crept across the floor with whisper quiet padding steps. Dark eyes pierced the gloom to survey the softly breathing figure on the bed and a wicked white smile slashed the small face of the watcher. Closer it crept, eerily alert to any sound of discovery, not only by the sleeping one, but from the shadow's possible pursuers. It rounded the bedside close to the table, and, tapping a foot against something on the floor, halted. A hand darted down and plucked something off the floor. Only the keenest of ears could hear a midnight echo in the breathy giggle.

The shadow moved to the side of the bed. It leaned down to gaze upon the immobile angelic face. A head nodded and a hand reached out. It carried something. A glint of early morning pre-light slid through the curtained window and gleamed faintly off a reflective surface of the object held. It was circular. It was also placed between cupped hands of the sleeper, as she lay instinctively with hands close to her face and knees only lightly drawn in fetal position. With the repressed air of someone getting away with the grandest trick in the book, a small button was depressed on the carefully positioned circle.

As a momentary bright light filled the room, the sleeper twisted to the side, and Aela awoke with the stunning moment of clarity only she was known for. That clarity didn't help her, however, when the sphere that was oh so carefully set in her hands rolled to the side and under an upturned corner of a pillow.

With nothing truly visible that would explain her disturbed sleep, Aela returned to Morpheus's embrace to await a proper morning.

Everything was again silent in the room. And an entity pouted from within distorted space.

------

Morning came with its rosy fingered dawn stabbing through the curtains at _just _the right angle. Aela awoke with some rather foul language learned at the feet of some of her 'uncles', as she cursed her body's alacrity in waking up. If her mother heard her now...

'Great,' Aela thought silently, 'now I've depressed myself.' The subject of her mother was not something she wanted broached, even in her thoughts.

Deciding there was no way of returning to sleep, Aela rose, zombie-like, as she shuffled off to the bathroom for her morning shower. Half-way through using the provided shampoo and conditioner in one, she was brought to a realization she already knew at least twice before, she - had - no - clothes.

After changing back into her dirty clothes, the dark trainer gave a fastidious shiver as she imagined all of the germs once again hopping onto her nice clean skin. She felt no shame in admitting to an urban upbringing, including the privilege of having a clean set of clothes every day. Absently gathering the only two articles she entered with, the backpack and bishiebelt, Aela finally made it out the door, never giving the rumpled bedding a second glance. After all, that was what an inn's maids were for, right?

So Aela's morning was off to a mild, but relatively bad start. It got worse when only minutes after she'd checked out, Hostess Joy (who looked as if she stayed on call the entire night, thus explaining the bags under her eyes) came running up with a cross look most unbecoming for many Nurse Joys.

"How irresponsible of a trainer are you?!" There was no expectant pause into which an answer could be inserted. "A trainer NEVER leaves a bishieball behind unless its deliberate, and if that's the case, then you're a cruel evil trainer! How you got invited here is a mystery to me. If the administrators are letting in such a mean spirited trainer in, who's already abandoning a Bishie even before they've reached their two week limit - "

"MA'AM!!" Aela finally had enough of the castigation and dirt kicking on her reputation. There was an inward smirk on id when Hostess Joy gaped in shock at the interruption of her rant.

"I don't _have_ a bishie yet," she explained as she reached a hand around her back to twist the belt into a forward position. If she could show the nagging hostess that all her _empty_ bishieballs were present and accounted for...

But there was a problem with that plan of action. Oh, the belt slid forward with ease, no doubt about that, but as Obs. Post patiently counted, id rolled while laughing and imitated a certain Transylvanian someone by going, 'Three, four, five... Five bishballs Ah ah ah!'

"Um..."

The normally kind and implacable Joy merely narrowed her eyes. Holy of holies, she said nothing further, but her expression as she shoved the delinquent bishieball into the dark trainer's hands gave away the impression that she was going to watch Aela. Very closely.

And so, as obsidian eyes rested on the occupied sphere bemusedly, Aela was left to her lonesome on a side street still pretty deserted of regular townspeople due to the early hour. A finger depressed the ubiquitous button, and the sphere cracked open with a flash of blue light. The light extended into a bolt and grounded itself a few feet away, only to dissipate. What the light revealed...

"Man, Aela," a childlike soprano with only the hints of sepulcher thunder sounded from a familiar two foot little body. "I thought you'd let me out long before this!"

There was someone Aela had always wanted to mimic, but there had never been so apt of an occasion as now.

"Oh my!"

The sentiments were echoed more explicitly by id's 'oh $h!+'.

"C'mon, it's not all that bad! After all, who in this world can say they've got such a cute chibi as me?" Janaelle, for it was the little minx Aela had first conscious contact with, winsomely whined while clasping her hands underneath her chin.

Aela took a moment to swallow her first and even her second automatic response. What finally came out, "How did you get here? How did you get in my bishieball?"

The little brat perked up for such easy questions.

"I rode the webs! There're always webs in all the lands, its just anywhere away from the Realm that they get trickier to jump." She looked like she wanted a cookie for answering correctly.

Aela wanted to sigh, she dearly did, but resubmitted her second question. "And the ball?"

A toe dragged in the dirt dissembling a bit. "Well, I wanted to stay with you... I know all the 'Uncle' Saetans were expecting me to choose one of them for a secondary parental guardian, but I thought you would do fine! You like me already, and you said I could call you 'Aela' since we were friends!"

"This has nothing to do with getting away from your Daemon babysitter?" Janaelle's imprinted bishieball was set into motion, rolling fluidly around the fingers, palm, and back of Aela's hand absentmindedly. It's hypnotic movement a result of a childhood obsession with Labyrinth's Jareth and his habit with the crystals, she had no idea of the retribution she escaped because of its entrancing qualities.

In fact, hairs on the back of her neck rose as she finally sensed an extra pair of eyes on her. When she looked behind, it was only to find said babysitter Daemon staring at her hands deftly manipulating the bishieball.

Aela's, "I really wish you'd stop sneaking up on me." jolted the mesmerized Warlord Prince out of his watchful reverie. Finally cognizant of the danger she now posed as a fully oriented trainer with a bishieball in hand, he snarled a command, forgetting his own 'danger' for the pressing need to protect a female in his care . "Don't you dare throw that at the chibi!"

The moving sphere halted, as its holder processed the ramifications of the order against what had already happened. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Aela merely placed the ball back on her belt and brought a hand to her temple in a futile attempt to quell an oncoming migraine. It was officially a bad morning.

"Alright, I'm hungry, so if you want to join me, I'm going to try to find a restaurant."

Gold eyes sparked. There was a little confusion contained within, as the girl obviously knew he and the chibi were fair game, and yet, kept her zeal contained. Her gruff but polite offer of food was also a surprise, but he didn't want to go waltzing around a human town with his charge. It felt like hanging a placard around his neck saying 'Fresh Meat'. And somehow, the chit was following his train of thought!

"If you're with me, everyone will think you're already captured."

Janaelle also piped up, soundly defeating his secondary concern, "And if anyone asks about Aela having a chibi, we can say that YOU'RE my guardian! Or even my dad, if we have do. Not that I want to claim you as my dad, but it would divert questions."

A growled 'Fine' was Aela's only answer and as the trio began walking busier streets as the morning progressed, she found his scowl and the reputation of an angry Warlord Prince more than cleared a path for the two preceding females.

They found an out of the way eatery just opening up for the morning and claimed a table in the rear. Aela deliberately lead them away from the tables by the large bay windows, as she didn't want to advertise her "capture" of a rare and renowned warlord prince, let alone the implication of having a chibi Janaelle with her. The mini Witch took the opportunity to climb in Aela's lap and manually pull the trainer's arms around her form. It was bad enough when the sleepy waitress inclined an eyebrow at the chibi's presence while gathering drink orders.

A minute's wait to ensure sufficient distance from their table had been obtained, the two adults of the group simultaneously turned their heads and directed laser glares at the other. Aela took the lady's prerogative and went first.

"I did not set out to capture her." The 'her' was directly implied. It did, however, engender a response in the male as he visible swelled up in ire, about to unleash a rant of explosive vitriol at what conclusions could be drawn from that sentence.

The soon to be impressive rant was cut off however, when faced with a set of swirling sapphires swimming with warning and onyx pools brimming with anger and sincerity.

Daemon felt cut off at the knees as he was dealt a double blow without even a fist raised. But he had to try, if only for the chibi's mother, who had partially raised him.

"Release her." It wasn't quite a demand, but only the keenest of ears could have heard the begging undertone.

A reluctant hand detached from its hold around the chibi before reaching behind her back. The belt of bishieballs had again slid around. Those questing fingers, however, found a smaller set, which grasped hers with a strength unbelievable from such small digits.

"No," Janaelle was determined, her voice firm, but there was a slight moisture welling in her eyes as they gazed into Daemon's confused gold.

"Janaelle," he warned, not sure why his charge would want to stay bonded to this trainer. Yes, the chit seemed to care for the chibi and had a certain draw about her... Like prickly wounded innocence, if he had to put a classification to it, but why would the Witch candidate deny her freedom for that?

Aela pulled her hand back from Janaelle's grip, and away from the belt, to the chibi's relief, before running her fingers through soft curls of hair the color of old gold. After the chibi in her lap relaxed with a purr against the trainer's larger frame and small arms around Aela's waist, the question was asked.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because if I get released, then Aela has to go home. Grandpa Saetan said 'one bishie at all times' right?"

Aela was surprised and a little startled. She had forgotten that from Professor Hojo's lecture, and from what he had indicated, going back would mean she would be returned to the exact place, and possibly the exact time.

Janaelle felt the shudder that wracked her body and those strong little arms tightened the slightest, trying to give as much comfort as possible.

Daemon, too, sensed the reaction and started drawing conclusions; connecting the dots, if you will. His mind cranked into high gear, trying to balance all of the conflicting needs. But as the precision instrument that his brain was, it only clicked to one solid resolution that would presumably satisfy all parties. It would require a great sacrifice on his part though...


	7. Chapter 7

Bishonen & Bishojo: DotM

"No."

Silence again descended.

No? No one told him 'no'!

Well, Witch did, on occasion. Chibi-Janaelle did so quite often too, but that was the brat's prerogative. But other than that... Certainly no human trainer.

"What do you mean, 'No'? I didn't even say anything yet." That was another good reason for the incredulous silence. How did she even know the inner workings of a Warlord prince's mind? Was she saying no to more bacon, not that he would offer any of his breakfast. Daemon was a distinct carnivore and would sooner bite off fingers before giving up bacon made right.

Aela just raised an eyebrow almost in conjunction with his incredulous thoughts. Could a human have psychic powers like the Blood?

"I refuse to put you in a Bishieball. Under any circumstances."

Daemon in turn raised his own brows. Not only was he being told 'no' for the first time in his life, but he was being rejected without even offering himself? That too was a first. What was her reasoning for this?

"You do realize that it is a significant rarity to be able to boast of having a Warlord Prince captured, let alone willingly correct?"

An unreadable look was shot in his direction along with a simple, "No means no."

"Janaelle will not remain in the power of someone who cannot protect her. She will not be under sway of a trainer!"

The object of the conversation was currently attempting to burrow under raven locks.

Dark eyes looked down at the warm bundle in her arms and while tightening their grip, verbally concurred with the blond Sadist. "I understand. Thus, we are at an impasse. I absolutely will not have you bound."

Janaelle piped up near her ear, causing a momentary flinch, but no sound.  
"And we can't let Aela free me or else she is booted out! I refuse to let that happen Daemie!"

Said 'Daemie' scowled at the nickname, but again turned his thoughts inward. Plan B...

He sounded his thoughts out, "Well, if I accompanied you until you received an alternate capture..."

At this, Janaelle wilted as she realized that there was actually a way out of the trap she thought was foolproof. She still had a way to go before she could plan like Witch.

Aela was of two minds about the solution. Granted, it allowed her to stand by her scruples, but neither was she entirely ready to be rid of the vivacious and friendly chibi. But, as honor stood, neither could she deny 'Plan B'.

Agreement was nodded.

Daemon abruptly stood up, sending his chair skidding back a few inches. An imperious hand was thrust out across the table and hovered, waiting.

"You want to shake on it? Like that will make it any more official?"

He shook his head exasperatedly. "No, give me a Bishieball and I will get you a replacement. Then Janaelle and I can be off and out of danger."

Aela scoffed in disbelief for a moment before realizing his expression of intent did not change. She also remembered that he didn't really joke unless with Janaelle. At least, that was the impression the books gave. And she didn't want his other type of humor being used on her.

"You'll just go out and arbitrarily catch a Bishie and be done with it?!"

He just gave a grunt followed closely by a typical male look that said, 'you're wasting time'.

"Whoa whoa whoa. First off, there's probably no unattached bishies in the town. I bet they'll typically stay away from trainer inhabited places. After all, you wouldn't normally be caught here on your own, right? Hmm, pun not intended."

That caused a minor eye roll and the hand dropping, but he still remained standing.

"It is better to get this finished and then we can go our separate ways. I cannot leave you two here in case an unscrupulous trainer wishes to take the chibi."

"At least finish your bacon, and we'll discuss this. I also want to talk about this a bit before we go haring off. With what I've been told, this place can get rough if not prepared," and she hurried her statement seeing the male get a snarly expression with the implication that he couldn't protect them, "and I don't want the new bishie and I to be completely incompatible."

Oh.

That made more sense than her disbelieving that he couldn't do the job.

Daemon hooked his toes around the chair leg and pulled it back. It wouldn't do to leave the bacon after all... Perfectly cooked bacon at that.

Janaelle peeked at her guardian with those dark blue eyes that shone with a hint of relief and postponed worry. She still got to stay with Aela a bit longer, but now that meanie would be joining them. Hmm, what if the propinquity of the situation caused Daemon to soften a bit toward the trainer and he decided to stay with them?

"If it has to happen this way, then I want some say in the new bishie, Aela."

Surprise caused the human to look at Janaelle. Suspiciously, she asked, "What do you mean?" Janaelle noted with some satisfaction that Witch's tattoo morphed into a spiky question mark. Janaelle was amused to think of the transmuting ink as the human's mood barometer.

"I just mean that I think my successor should be a girl. Not a chibi, 'cause no one can really replace me, but definitely a girl."

In thought, Aela nodded agreement. "That would be nice." What was unsaid was how much easier it would be if she had a bishojo companion. An actual bishonen would eventually engender id to create a conniption fit after a while.

Aela continued her thoughts. "Someone who can fight would be helpful too. That's part of what I wanted to stipulate Daemon."

The Sadist grunted understanding, but inwardly he was smirking. If those were the only two conditions, then he'd just find the first bishojo who looked marginally like she could fight and ball her. Then he and his charge can ride the webs home. He didn't anticipate much of a fight. After all, he was a Black-jewelled Warlord Prince. How hard could it be?

Daemon settled down to demolishing the pancakes too, the entire stack, including Aela's and liberally doused them with the syrup. Warlord Prince's liked their pancakes along with bacon.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Somehow, it always came back to the voices.

If it wasn't the external voices of the scientists, doctors and audio lab equipment, it was the creepy whispering. The whispering he could swear was just over his shoulder, in his ear, in his dreams. One would think the whispers would be of sweet nothings, but oh no, not him. Instead, he got the creepy whisperings.

Power to rule. Beautiful boy, sublime warrior, killing perfection. Birthright for the taking. Necessity to conquer.

It hadn't always been like this. The whispers had seemed to creep up slowly over the years. When he first recognized them as something more than incoherent murmurs, he just thought it was the sleep deprivation the scientists had made him go through.

But after the experiments moved on to other things, the whispers stayed. And got minutely louder. More clear. And took a feminine yet psychotic tint.

The scientists were told nothing. They were all alike, greasy and hunched over and entirely too absorbed in the pursuit of science to take the time to counsel some minor fallacy that was 'obviously' beneath the specimen.

The doctors were somewhat similar, still the same faces, but still told nothing, because at the slightest inkling of weakness on his part, and they would swarm. Verbally poke and prod at any crack in his mental armor, just to see what would happen, regardless that he was the only specimen available at the time.

He had learned long ago, that while one of these doctors or scientists probably was his biological father, the chance to create a sibling was so far fetched due to the adverse reaction any female of any bishie species would have. It only made him wonder all the more how he was created...? Test tube perhaps?

It was when the whispers were more like a single voice that could be heard from the next room over that he began to panic. That, and for the first time he heard the voice call him 'son'.

The day he heard that was the day he broke out of the medical/research facility.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Aela lead her small entourage back to the shop with a small sigh. Murphy would have to dictate that after breakfast the streets would be fairly bustling. While she was goggling at the sheer variety of bishies out there, she too got her share of wolf whistles. Most of it was the trainers, who might recognize a full san-stage Warlord Prince. Some would shoot envious and incredulous glances at a chibi, and a Janaelle at that!

What really gave her the headache though, was the rare Bishonen what whistled at her. Granted, it was an occasional Miroku or other lecherous type, and was always followed by a sound SMACK from either the bishie's trainer or companion bishojo.

Despite Daemon's insistence, Aela had held out on immediately going on a bishie-hunt. Even Janaelle was giving her looks of admiration for standing firm, but a girls still got to have her priorities. NO MORE PJ's!

So it was back to the shop. Ethel smiled in recognition, and then almost fainted when she saw who followed the frugal newbie. A salacious smile and wink followed Aela as she made her way back to the clothing aisles.

Aela normally followed a habit of practicality, but found it within herself to be even more so when she had the glower of the Sadist burning her back with every pause to consider color, fabric or even fit. Heaven forbid asking him for the time to try on an outfit. Instead, she resigned herself to several one-size-fits-all cotton T-shirts of assorted colors (no pink or Barney purple, thank-you-very-much) and a few capri's in Khaki, jeans, and some canvas material that she knew was her size. She'll figure out the fit later.

Janaelle had made herself useful by vanishing the selected clothing for now. Neither girl had the slightest intention of asking Daemon to hold the bags. Burnt scraps were not on the agenda.

Next was socks and shoes. Running shoes, a sturdy pair of flip-flops, and hiking boots. No more, no less.

The last necessity had both females glaring at the confused male when he tried to single-mindedly follow them into the next section. When he followed their pointed gaze to the shelves next to his elbow, they were graced with the smallest flush over dusky gold cheekbones. The very male Warlord Prince hightailed it out of the lingerie department.

The dedicated sales assistant for the section gave her own throaty chuckle before turning to the trainer and chibi.

"You don't know how many times the bishonen do that. Depending on the species, some of them do it 'accidentally-on-purpose'. Now what can I do for you ladies?"

While Janaelle looked wistfully between the racks of bras in a variety of lacy to racy styles back toward her own 'assets', Aela took charge.

"Newbie status. This is my first outfitting trip. I think like most I'm going to be doing a lot of travelling. No preference on color, but no pink or purple."

The saleslady, who introduced herself in that whiskey voice as Jasmine, looked intrigued. "Newbie? What's your secret?"

At Aela's questioning look, she continued. "That's got to be the third Daemon I've ever seen, and I've been here for almost a decade. You just don't see them outside of the Dark Jewels Territory. And he seemed pretty intent on following you even into here! That speaks of a protective Blood male to even ignore his surroundings." At the end of the mini-rant, Jasmine looked at Aela expectantly.

Janaelle giggled, drawing her attention before voicing her opinion. "Daemie can get really stubborn. Its an inherent - vice? trait?" She trailed off, not sure of the word she wanted to use, but her trainer smiled getting the gist.

"Yes, he can be a bit stubborn, can't he?" And then to Jasmine, "I really have no idea. I made friends, and apparently he came along with he package."

Janaelle just grinned exuberantly and wrapped an arm around her trainer, wanting the close contact with her friend.

Jasmine eyed the two with an amused air. "Alright, keep your secrets. If you bottled whatever it is, you'd make a fortune! But still, travel you say? Bah, after a few years, you'll want to settle down and get a perfectly good job. Sales is not so bad, after all, and you still get a variety of bishies blowing through town with their trainers. Lets see, you look like a size-..."

It turned out that the skivvies department took as much time as breakfast and the time to select outerwear combined. Daemon certainly had enough time to get over his small fever, as it could never have been a blush. There was nothing to be embarassed over. It was an honest mistake, and he was just trying to get the annoying trainer to hurry up.

When his charges finally exited that horrible horrible department, he chivvied them over to the counter and had to endure one more human proverbially drooling before getting with the program.

Ethel couldn't keep the grin off her face and trying to slip innuendo into every word she could slip in edgewise. What a haul!

Aela had the receipt stamped with minimal fuss after pestering Daemon to shake hands with Ethel, and the trio exited the shop leaving her swearing never to wash said appendage.

All three shuddered upon exit after hearing that declaration.

Janaelle laughed at the oddity of all three having the same reaction. Aela quirked a smile, and Daemon looked toward the town limits trying to suppress his snort of amusement that the human would have the good sense to behave in a like manner.

"Alright then. I'll get changed and then we can go bishojo hunting. All good?"

"Acceptable."

"Aww, do we have to? Daemon this could be fun! I've never'"

"No, kitten, your mother would have my hide, let alone the spanking you'll get from Witch if you continue misbehaving."

"Oh pooh," she pouted.

When she turned to Aela for assistance, Janaelle was startled to realize the girl had snuck away. One could almost see the invisible ?! over her head.

Daemon too paused at the thought of one who could move under his finely honed radar. Perhaps he had just adjusted to her presence or movements, classifying them as harmless to himself and his charge. After all, she appeared more than willing to release Janaelle after a suitable alternative had been proposed. It wasn't very many people who he reclassified his mental image for, let alone trainers.

It was barely a minute later when Aela exited out of a nearby restaurant in the brown canvas capris, green T-shirt and running shoes. An overall wholesome look. As she neared, she was tying back her riot of curls and huffed as one or two inevitably sprang out to frame her face.

"Alright, lets go."

After leaving the city limits, Janaelle insisted on walking first closely with the trainer, then slipped her hand into the trainer's. After about fifteen minutes, she then skipped up, dragging Aela closer to Daemon who absently held out his hand to his charge while using his senses and the Black to scan the surroundings for life sources that might support a fighter type.

Aela didn't mention anything because she recognized a look of concentration when she saw one. That, and she didn't want to get her head bitten off either.

Janaelle just liked the thought of walking hand in hand with her two favorite people, never-mind that one of them was her babysitter who liked making fun of her.

It was about an hour later that Daemon mentioned he found a possible candidate. Apparently, there was someone with quite the fighter's spirit somewhat northwest of their current location. They would have to go cross country a bit to get there, and Daemon was pretty sure there was a cliff in that direction overlooking another trainer town.

Aela tugged her hand out of Janaelle's and pulled her backpack/tent around and dug out the map. After guesstimating their current location based on walking speed and the road out of town, she pinpointed the general direction Daemon had mentioned and confirmed that there was indeed a cliff and that it overlooked a whimsical town called Why?.

Daemon snatched the map out of her hands upon believing she was having him on. But disbelief or not, smack dab where the dainty fingernail pointed was a town called Why?

Even more, after shooing away Aela's help, Daemon found another town further down the road called Why Not? and another about two days distant from that one called Because. Shaking his head, Daemon thrust the map back. If he kept looking, he would have noticed that the cliffs were named Insanity, and that they bordered Guilder and Florin Territory.

-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It had been a year now. For the most part, he was glad. No more experiments, no more voices. Instead, the psychotic bitch had quieted with the distance he put between himself and his birth Territory.

Granted, it was back to whispers, but it was certainly better than the persuasive poisoned honey voice dripping in his ear, encouraging aggressive and rage inducing thoughts. But the whispers were still capitalizing on the good will that was generated from his actions taken since the voice started. After all, shouldn't he be beholden to the one who got him away from the constant pain and scrutiny?

Oh wait, that was the whispers again. But still, even he felt a niggling warmth as he overlooked the land splayed out before him. It was so calm, so bountiful. Almost as if it were ripe for the taking...

Sometimes, he worried. The whispers were quieter, but they seemed more insidious. After all this time, it sounded like his subconscious more than he liked. He really didn't want to sow destruction and violence... Did he?

He took a step closer to the edge. Would a fall even scratch him? While the whispers didn't think so, they also didn't like these thoughts of attempting to get away, of escaping. It was almost like they didn't care about his well-being...

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"There," he whispered. Daemon finally sighted his quarry. It had taken awhile to impress stealth upon Janaelle, and surprisingly little emphasis to get the trainer to follow his lead, but the trio had crept up to the summit of a hill about a hundred yard away from the fighter standing near the cliffs.

Daemon smirked to himself in success. The quarry had overly long hair and what looked like a sword strapped to her back. Plus, she had her back turned and was not aware of their scrutiny. Too easy.

He scuttled back down the hill toward his charge and trainer. He held his hand out again imperiously and snapped his fingers for the bishieball.

Janaelle almost let out a squawk of indignation on Aela's behalf for the overbearing action, but was silenced by a dual look from the adults.

Aela reached toward the middle of her back and unhooked a miniaturized red and white orb, but before depositing it in his tapered fingers, she whispered, "I want to see first."

Daemon almost rolled his eyes but nodded curtly before gesturing in mock chivalry for her to go first. It was only with reluctant admiration that she made the scuttle look almost graceful and with equal silence as he followed right on her heels. Janaelle had to be content to sit in the shade at the bottom of the hill. There was no one about that his senses could tell, and she did not have the knack to hide her life force yet.

At the summit again, Daemon found Aela peering over intently. He waited a moment for any protest as to his choice of quarry and after bare moments, he took her silence as acquiescence. Daemon lithely fingered the obscene captureing device and hauled back, pulling the slightest on his red jewel for power and a small spell for accuracy.

It was at that moment that things went a little chaotic.

The figure on the cliff turned just the slightest toward them and a breeze roared upward sending the waterfalls of that silver hair billowing. Aela's jaw dropped in silence, finally putting a name to the form that had niggled in the recesses of her mind and she lunged at Daemon. Her movement caught him off-guard and the slight weight as she crashed against his chest and bicep turned what would have been a heroic pitch to bean the quarry into a lob that started rolling down the hill.

The duo on the summit watched the progress of the red and white blur as it reached the bottom and unerringly rolled to the booted foot of the warrior. That was a Daemon grade accuracy spell for you. It slowed as it approached and settled to a stop with the barest of taps to the black leather boots.

Daemon cursed when the tap did not ignite the orb into capture mode.

Aela released her pent up breath when she did not get a psychotic bishie for her first Bishonen. Her relief did not last long when he turned to look at the ball and reached down.

"NO! Don't touch it!"

Daemon jerked, not expecting the power of those lungs as they sounded from the close proximity of the trainer still latched onto his arm.

Daemon and Aela both could swear they saw incredulous and rebellious glowing cat green eyes look at them before pale tapered fingers plucked the bishieball from beside his boot.

And accidentally depressed the trigger.


	8. Chapter 8

Bishonen & Bishojo: DotM

Question? What happens when you tell someone who embodies the killing perfection, the word 'No' followed by a command?

The same thing anyone with a teenage mind would do. The exact opposite.

It was such an inconspicuous thing he reached for, half red, half white, and it wasn't until a finger depressed something with a click on the far side of the ball that he had an inkling of surprise. The world whirled. The whispers screamed and grew silent. Shrieking pain suffused his limbs and invaded every cell of his body.

Eternity in a moment.

A moment in eternity.

And when the trial was over, something else crept over his aching bones. Soothed him to the marrow of his being. Warmth. Not superficial like the humming facilities he once inhabited or even the warmth of light washing over his moonlight complexion. In the many dry texts he was forced to read and memorize, the concept that came closest was a combination of platonic caring, of affection.

He felt, for the first time in his life that someone cared for him.

It would be a while for this soaked in. But the good thing was, in his current location, he had a lot of time.

-~-~-~-~-~-~

A tumbleweed driven by wind swept by and then promptly fell over the cliff. There wasn't very much noise in those next few critical seconds that the orb shook just the slightest before PINGing and falling still.

Daemon was riding the high of a successful mission that was accomplished despite all interference, and his ego was want to attribute this to the 'I'm just that damn good' factor. A low voice that vibrated in enticing ways through the chest that was still plastered against his own begged to differ.

"You just caught Sephiroth."

Good feeling gone.

Aela very gently disengaged her grip from his still out-flung arm and settled back from her tiptoes. She very calmly took a few steps away. She very deliberately folded her arms, not around her elbows in a challenging manner, but rather around her waist, subconsciously indicating insecurity that screamed at all his Blood male instincts.

Daemon could see the trainer take a deep breath, but heard no inflection beyond the sound of air passing through trembling lips. He watched a hand flit from her side to the ever-present belt and pluck his charge's cage from the line. Under his disbelieving gaze, the ball was pried open and the second hand came forward to grip half.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, his normally seductive rasp reaching vocal heights normally traditional to the female half of the species.

A midnight gaze that reflected nothing but the light looked up. "Fulfilling my half of the bargain. That-" she indicated with a chin toward the lone ball sitting at the edge of the cliff, "is a replacement bishie. As he is now my anchor to stay within the world, it is on my honor to release Janaelle."

Daemon didn't know how he did it, but the tensile strength of his hand halted the sudden wresting her own were trying to accomplish to sunder the bishieball in half, thus breaking the bond Aela held on Janaelle.

"You would just let this go? Let bygones be bygones? Try to survive an INSANE MASS MURDERER as your beginner's bishie?" At this point, Daemon had plucked Janaelle's ball from her hands and safely closed it in its proper position. The second that was in order, his hands were shaking the obviously suicidal trainer trying to knock a gear into place in what should have been a rational mind.

Aela quickly smacked his hands away from her, and the only reason he let go despite the difference in strengths was because he was just so flustered. It was built into their very genetic code to be protective. It was embedded in his own code of honor to fulfill every bargain he struck. It just went against the grain to let this newbie try to make due with a bishie that very well could slaughter her as soon as she let him out of the ball. Whatever the Professors said in orientation classes, just because the trainer's genetic structure imposes a bond on the captured bishie does not mean that automatically makes them more docile or less homicidal!

"No! No, no, and no," he barked.

The almost opaque look in her eyes cleared momentarily like clouds parting before a brisk wind. "What's that supposed to mean? You did your part. I have an alternate bishie. I know its a Bishonen, and I have some knowledge of what having Sephiroth means, but you're so all-fired to get Janaelle back home that I thought you would jump at the chance to acquit yourselves of my presence."

"Well, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. To quote you, 'No means no." Not only is it entirely wrong to leave you like this, it is also a matter of Territory security. You may know what a Sephiroth is like from the game on the Outside, but here it is a Very Big Matter!"

Aela could almost hear the capital letters in that phrase.

"A Sephiroth is very rare in and of themselves, and the only times they've ventured out of the Final Fantasy territories, they've always caused massive collateral damage and deaths before they can be put down. Personally, I don't know of a trainer ever keeping one."

For some reason, the line of derogatory thinking brought Aela's impractical stubborn side to the fore. "How well do you know this for sure? Sephiroth wasn't always insane. In the game he was also some military figure of high rank before he went cuckoo." Her statement caused a warm flush to travel through her, while id was arguing that Daemon was right and why the hell was she arguing to keep a Bishonen nonetheless. Observation indicated that they just didn't have enough information yet and slipped a subliminal command that was barely noticed and yet acted upon during their tirades.

Aela and Daemon were almost to the point of yelling at each other when the trainer about-faced and marched down the hill in the direction of the cliffs.

Daemon had a moment of yelling at empty air before recognizing that she just left him in mid-rant. His mouth snapped shut with a click and he stiff-legged it to catch up. By the time he was halfway down, the fool girl had snatched up the filled ball and did the traditional 'click the button and throw like hell'.

The urge to shake her rose again, but was quickly squelched. Priorities, of course, because now the Warlord Prince had only seconds to prepare as the blue-white light solidified into one of the most ruthless figures in the known territories. The Blood male took his rightful place before his chosen female; directly in the path of the adversary.

When the light subsided, he noted such details as the lack of the single wing, the long ass sword staying in the sheath over Sephiroth's back and unfathomably, the hesitant look of affection in those glowing cat-slitted pupils.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

As said before, his current location was dark, and yet warm. He had eons to himself, but it never felt more than moments. In those eons, he came to a realization. This is what a 'mother' feels like. Right?

Something in him had changed, the scraping entity that whispered poisoned words was gone and was replaced with this hesitant softness. It was inundated with a numbed fear, but it wasn't all consuming or even painful. The logic of the fear being directed at himself actually soothed him as he could perfectly understand where it came from. After all, he was a perfect specimen, yes? That was what he was bred for, after all. All the scientists spent great lengths telling him so.

From what he read and was encouraged to think of how a son should act, the first thing he should do was comfort and assure his mother of his loyalty and returned affection. The fear would logically disperse and then she would be more readily willing to direct his actions. After all, it made perfect sense that the maternal authority figure should raise her son in the manner she felt most befitting, right?

~-~-~-~-~

The world swirled again, but this time in light. When it resolved, he again found himself by the cliffs, and an ethereal bond was directing him toward a figure. At first, he was confused as the figure before him standing menacingly was male. Pissed off male, if he had to be specific. There was no way this could be his mother. All the wrong bits after all. He never made that mistake again since he was little and followed one of the rare female scientists into the bathroom.

His confusion abated, however when the right figure peered around the male. For the first time, his eyes alighted on the personification of 'Mother'. He took a step forward, only to halt at the growl the male emitted. It was a specimen bordering his level of perfection, gold to his silver. But he could sense the male was still a few steps inferior.

"Step away from her," his own voice was almost startling in its smoothness. He could scarce believe it still had this quality after a year of having no one to speak to.

The growling increased and the other lowered into an offensive stance. The shift in position caused a jeweled pendant to drop from the collar of the shirt and sparkle menacingly, if a black bauble could do such a thing. A ring in a similar setting picked up a stray beam of light and lit the ruby color with an inner iridescence.

"Lets not," the male returned, internally finishing the childish rejoinder.

He could feel his pupils dilate and then sharply constrict in concentration as his lightning fast processes assessed this obstacle between him and his mother. Why couldn't the male let him be a good son and greet his mother?

There was a confusing array of emotions filtering down their bond. Suspicion, terror, and worry, surprisingly for both sides of the conflict which made parts of him long ignored soften into mush in appreciation. His mother worried about him!

He didn't really want to hurt the male, then, if his mother also considered him someone of worth, but with a shake of his silver tresses, he cleared the way for Masamune to exit its sheath, a hand on the hilt in preparedness. Even if he had to defeat the male, he would tender his greetings.

Silence, again. It was the calm before the proverbail storm, when two titanic forces clashed and the world sundered. It was a tolling of the bells to signal the unleashing of the hounds of war. It was another innocent tumbleweed flinging itself out over the abyss that remained a few steps away.

It was a sepulcher voice raining down the command.

"Daemon, I'll tell Witch if you don't stop your silliness right now!"

Blink.

Blink.

He didn't know why, but he blinked too, taking Mother's cue.

The delicious tension that had heralded a superior spar dissipated like a drop of water in one of the desert territories. He almost felt like whining 'but HE started it!'

A small figure made its way down the hillside and stopped several feet away from the boogie-man everyone was afraid of. Sapphire eyes looked up into lambent mako-green. One assessed the other. Both turned to look into obsidian and back again before reaching nonverbal agreement.

Janaelle let a slow grin spread across her feature before whirling and dashing into Aela's arms. Her announcement caused a dual sweat-drop on the trainer and the chibi's guardian.

"I always wanted a brother!"

~-~-~-~-~

Birds took flight in terror, the people of Guilder and Florin swore for years later that the cliffs of Insanity jumped from their bedrock, the shout echoed out into the ether.

"WHAT?!"

~-~-~-~-~

A few hours later around a witchlight bonfire, it dawned on Daemon that the little trio of himself, his charge and his trainer would never be the same. He felt like a cat that had its fur rubbed the wrong way. And then plucked out with duct tape.

Currently, the bane of the Final Fantasy territories was attempting to curl up in Aela's lap and almost purring with the attention she outright lavished on him.

The only soothing balm to his ego was her occasional expression that told him she was treating Sephiroth like a large white tiger, better to give him what he wants and maybe it won't eat her.

Janaelle was entirely too close as well, tucked as she was into Aela's other side and playing with the strands of moonlight that passed for hair. Aesthetically speaking, and removing all bias he had, the scene made a rather pretty picture; the onyx and raven surrounded by cream and silver as well as old gold and sapphires. In the very deepest parts of his psyche, Daemon also wondered where his frosted gold would fit in?

Aela was a maelstrom of emotions and thoughts that were slowly settling. After Janaelle's startling pronouncement, she had asked herself aloud, "Now I'm a mom twice over?" To which guarded green just looked at her asking 'is that ok? Can you be my mother?' In answer, previously dormant instincts roared to life and she mustered a tremulous smile. Arms opened in invitation.

There was blur of wind and then a very large six foot form covered in leather and steel pauldrons was two feet away. Sephiroth himself inched closer into those welcoming arms. When he realized his mother's head would barely reach his collarbone, he dropped to a knee, which put him in the perfect stance to position his head so that it tucked under her chin.

At the same time, it was a little awkward trying to hug huge iron pauldrons, but also very sweet. If what Aela remembered about the character Sephiroth was true, he had never really experienced anything of human relationships that made life worth it.

Plus, after hours of him making sure she didn't think of him as a threat, she realized her Sephiroth was a momma's boy. In a good way.

While she was definitely glad she didn't have to deal with a uber-powered homicidal bishonen, she did have a few questions that remained unanswered. If her Sephiroth turned out to be such a big kitten, why did his type have this big bad reputation in his territory? If the reputation IS accurately earned, then what happened to cause her 'son' to be to immediately loyal to her? What was she going to do when she wanted to walk into towns with a Sephiroth trailing her heels like an over-protective puppy? Well, the analogy only worked if the puppy had a five and a half foot sword, but still....

On a separate matter, now that she was satisfied with her bishonen, what was she going to do about Daemon and Janaelle? They did not mention Janaelle's upcoming freedom yet, and her hands still ached after Daemon's grip prevented breaking the bishieball.

Janaelle was practically attached to her hip and was in the middle of braiding a lock of Sephiroth's hair. Aela only hoped the chibi wouldn't get it into her head to braid in some flowers. She wasn't sure what the Soldier General's reaction would be to that.

Daemon was across the fire from the trainer and she could swear he was glowering at her every so often. It didn't quite register that it was the Bishonen nearly in her lap that had him shooting dirty looks.

On Sephiroth's part, he was in seventh heaven. Not the bar, but rather in a high state of familial pleasure. Mother was allowing him to be close and soak in her warmth, only after he removed his shoulder armor. Through his fledgling bonds, he could sense her contentment with his presence. What was more, he felt her affection for the chibi. He calculated that since his mother liked the little female, and the care she was providing was not going to interfere with her liking him, that it was ok for him to look upon the girl as a sister.

Sephiroth's gaze shot over to the brooding presence across from the snug trio. The male he learned was named Daemon and supposedly was going to leave Mother in his care. Sephiroth did not mind that, not one bit. That would give him time to acclimate himself to Mother's wants better without interference.

"Is it time for Janaelle to go?" Mother queried from above him.

He tensed. His bond was informing him that she felt sadness and longing at the thought of the chibi leaving. Before the male Daemon could respond, Sephiroth asked his own question.

"Do you not want her to leave, Mother?"

She gave him a warm wry smile. "Not really, no, Seph. It's just that her presence as my bishie kept me anchored here in this world until I was able to acquire another anchor. Now that I have you, Daemon will want to have me complete my part of the agreement to have her released."

He mulled that over and also noted Daemon's reaction to this statement. The gold male looked like he wanted to protest for a second before reconsidering. In Sephiroth's mind, that meant he too wasn't that adverse to staying with his charge in his Mother's care. His eyes met those of liquid sapphire.

"Do you want to stay as well, little one?"

Janaelle's chin wobbled the slightest before dipping into a nod.

"Mother, if you request it, I will not allow him to remove your adopted daughter from your care."

Eyebrows quirked all around at this offer. They all knew Sephiroth had the power to enforce it too, but it bore contemplation that he would even offer.

Daemon puffed up with the jab to his pride, that his charge could possibly be kept from him if he wished it otherwise. His breed was the most powerful of the Blood, aside from Witch.

With this new standstill, Janaelle had the proverbial lightbulb. From her accessible position seated next to Aela, she snatched an unoccupied bishieball from the belt and used a bit of her own power to propel it toward the unsuspecting male. From her own experiences with her guardian, she knew he wouldn't protest, much, his capture if it meant staying with Janaelle. And, she knew the trainer had grown on him. That his instincts had chosen the dark girl as the strong female in his life when he put himself between her and almost certain harm.

Sephiroth understood his 'sister's' actions as the ball flashed over the fire, to glint with reflections and wallop Daemon upside the head, opening and swallowing him in a flash of blue lightning.

The tableaux was again cricket chirping as their trainer digested the abrupt action. The ball did not even rock before PINGing, claiming once and for all a willing Warlord Prince, even if he was caught by surprise.

Aela stared with an unreadable face at the innocent sphere before gently dislodging her 'son' and leaving her spot by the fire to approach. She picked up the bishieball. She walked several steps away from the fire and turned so she faced the flames.

While keeping her hands on the ball instead of throwing it, she clicked it open and out spat Daemon in a bolt of blue. Once he began to resolve in material form, she spun so her back was to the fire, leaving her front in deep shadow.

Janaelle and Sephiroth were confused, presented with her back as it were, and Daemon had a moment of confusion on his face as he realized he wasn't in the warm darkness anymore. It was only a second later, but everyone's spine straightened alarmingly when they heard the CRACK!


	9. Chapter 9

Bishonen & Bishojo: DotM

With the CRACK echoing in the darkness, Daemon's form contorted in a spasm. It wasn't quite pain, but he definitely felt a ripping, a loss to his inner being. The warm contentment he felt for those precious moments both in the ball and as he was released back beside the fire were sheared away. The breaking of the bond between bishie and trainer did not diminish the bishie by any means, but the psyche definitely noticed the absence, especially if the trainer was at some level appreciated or loved.

When the wracking tremors subsided, Daemon found himself sprawled beside the witchlight. While everything he did always had an understated elegance to it, even he found it hard to make an unexpected dirt face-plant elegant.

Hayllian gold peered from sooty lashes at the form just on the edges of the light. Her back was still turned, so could not ascertain her emotional state with any certainty, but those bare moments as a bonded Bishonen allowed a certain bit of insight. That, and the time he'd spent in her presence, he had learned a bit about her scruples. She had told him before that she did not want to capture him. There was no reason given, but the firmness of her statement there in the restaurant was self-evident. It also bore truth in her actions here this evening.

What was really eating him, though, was Why?

From the first Daemon his breed was based on, there were all of those genetic memories of deep-seated non-acceptance. It niggled his subconscious, why did she not want a black jeweled warlord prince? Was it because she wanted someone with more power? While ridiculous to think, there were others out there with more power, ironically, one sitting to the side of his charge wearing an unreadable expression. Was his appearance not to her liking? Daemons were always aware of what their physical presence did to the female half of the populations. It was his signature, attractive to anything with a pulse and rejecting all. He didn't think it was his history either, genetic or his own. A guardian of a future Witch was nothing to sneeze at. Why did his trainer not want him?

"I thought you understood my thoughts on captivity, Janaelle," she whispered. The words did not echo like any Witch pre or post, but they did contain a haunting quality.

Aela's shock when the chibi threw the Bishieball had broken with the flash of light signalling a capture. Her mind lashed back to reading the original trilogy. The agony and the hatred that captivity wrought. The silent chains that twisted and hurt. The aching bonds that she empathized with. It was a definite lesser degree of the trials Sadi had to endure, but her own experiences with the rules that bound the Family had some direct connotations. Until she came here, there was no way for her to remove those chains. She would never put her favorite character through anything similar to what happened in the books, let alone the more mild forms that she experienced.

For Daemon Sadi, the Bishieball represented everything she felt repulsed by.

It was somewhat different with Sephiroth. If he wasn't with her, they might have had a Territory wide massacre. Janaelle wanted out of the overprotective watch of her kin. The trainer bond was a means to an end. The chibi's intent was not deplorable and to a point she empathized. It was just that Aela held her honor close to her heart, even if said heart broke.

The shadowed form of the trainer shifted her feet so that she was in profile to the witchfire. The eye shaded in flickering lights also showcased the black slash given by Witch. To keen mako eyes, it was a writhing thorny vine. To nacent bonds, she exibited wry determination and heartbreak warring with doing the right thing.

There was another ball in her hands. It appeared as if by craft. Sephiroth made not a move from his place by the fire. It was Mother's decision after all. Janaelle had her heart in her throat, tears in her eyes and a mind awhirl with the ramification of her own actions. Sadi was in the middle of scrambling up from his face-plant and didn't quite catch the action before another CRACK split the night.

Casually, the silver general caught his almost sibling when she crumbled from the destruction of the bond. Daemon's head shot up to stare at his charge with momentary confusion before swiveling to watch the broken halves of a second Bishieball drop earthward.

"Go," a voice lifted from a head bent forward. Curls had shifted to cover her eyes so what little expression showed from the light of the fire couldn't be seen. Daemon couldn't detect a tremor in her voice, a repressed sob or anything. At any other time, he could respect anyone who kept control over their emotions, but not only did he just get summarily rejected (again, he might add, physically now if not verbally before) but the trainer also was doing exactly what he wanted from the start! How dare she follow his original orders!

"You-" he started.

"I fufilled my part of the bargain. Neither you nor your charge are bound by the wicked trainer, so you might want to flee home before you're caught again.

"You foolish-!"

It wasn't shouted, but it may as well have been with the intensity it was uttered.  
"La parola, l'onore, la famiglia. A bargain struck in good faith is always kept, thus your word is more than air passing your lips."

Daemon approached and practically vibrated with suppressed emotion. His taller height canted over so that they were nose to nose. "I ought to shake some sense into you..." He trailed off when he noticed peripherally that Sephiroth tensed up at that threat. "But I won't. You did as promised and I technically cannot fault you for that." Gold eyes bore into resolute obsidian before a faint whisper of a sigh passed through his lips. His head tilted to the side and lowered a smidgeon further. Out of sight, a wicked smirk flared before whispering in her ear. "This doesn't mean you get away that easily, either."

Aela's hand darted forward to push him away, but futily pressed against a solid wall of warm muscle. Daemon's bicep curled around her arm for a scant second before his hand did something that caused her eyes to widen and her other hand to also raise to help push.

Sephiroth choked on air because from his vantage point it looked like the gold frosted male just goosed his mother.

Daemon darted back over to his charge's side, one hand displaying two miniaturized orbs between outstretched fingers.

"Kitten will need to check in with her mother and Witch needs to be told about your new little duckling. Afterwards, though... There will be a conversation. That I promise you, trainer mine."

The infuriating male gave a provoking grin before sweeping Janaelle up into the black winds, obviously on their way home. It left mother and son gaping unattractively into open air. The witchfire sparked and spat merrily before turning into a normal fire without craft to sustain the purple red color.

"He just grabbed your balls mother?" Sephiroth inquired gently, trying to ascertain whether he should be offended on his mother's behalf.

Aela coughed in embarassment as her mind ran with the weird implications his question brought up. "I guess... I suppose that is true in one form or another, Sephie, but please do not say that in such a way before an audience. Please. It might not be understood the right way."

A fine boned face looked up at her with curious green eyes and tilted to the side to inquire of his mother, "What other way would it be misunderstood?"

Aela was left spending the rest of the night trying to explain innuendo to her born, bred, and raised killing perfection son.

Sephiroth occupies one Bishieball. I broke Janaelle's and Daemon's. That infuriating male took another two hostage. That means I have only one Bishieball left. And I haven't caught a singly Bishie by myself. Janaelle deliberately caught herself, Seph did the same but accidentally, and the chibi had the gall to catch me a black-jeweled Warlord Prince.


End file.
